


The City Never Sleeps

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a series of strange murders in Tokyo. Ginoza wants no part of it, but that's easier said than done when he gets involved with a detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flowers Have a Language and So Does Crime

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah this is a modern AU, and it's also partially inspired by Durarara!! (the chatroom bit, and the fact that Makishima pretty much has Izaya's role. But you don't need to have seen it to understand this, and I wouldn't quite call it a Durarara!! AU. But yeah.)

Tokyo Chatroom Log 20:01 13 September 2015 

gameboyk: This is so cool! Just talking to strangers based on where we live. Who came up with this?  
1984: That would be me.   
gameboyk: !!!  
gameboyk: Also have you heard about the living statues?   
jellyfish: living statues?   
gameboyk: Yeah, they're finding dismembered bodies around Tokyo, like works of art. Plasticized.   
dime: That's ridiculous.   
gameboyk: Huhhh??? I'm just stating what I know.   
dime: Anyone who would actually do that doesn't exist.   
1984: Some people have quite the imagination.   
gameboyk: Why are you such a doubter? I've seen pictures!!   
theinformant: So have I.   
hound1: So have I.   
dime: …  
dime: You could be lying to me. I can't just take your word.   
Hacker: I've seen more than pictures.   
gameboyk: Ohhhh, creepy.   
dime: This isn't funny.  
jellyfish: please tell me you're joking.   
Hacker: -_-   
gameboyk: ?!?!?!?!?!   
hound1: That's enough internet for today. 

*

“There's a man at reception.” 

Kougami jumps and nearly bashes his head into Shion's face. He almost wishes he did, if it would get her to stop sneaking up on him whenever she needs to tell him something. 

He turns around and backs up a little, so there's an acceptable distance between them. (Shion looks disappointed.) 

“You ruin all the fun, Kougami,” she says. 

“There's a man at reception?” Kougami asks. “Does he want me?” 

“He might if he saw you,” Shion says with a wink. “But no, I just came to tell you that he's there, and he's cute, and you should go look at him.” 

“I told you to stop trying to set me up.” 

“Just take a look.” 

Kougami sighs and stands up, knowing that Shion won't leave him alone if he doesn't at least take a look. It isn't like he has to talk to the guy. At least five times per week Shion sees someone come into the office whom she thinks is cute. Some of them are criminals, but after Kagari actually tried to date one, she's stopped suggesting them. 

Akane is already standing by the window separating the offices from the main lobby of the building, though she hasn't looked yet. She gives Kougami a knowing smile when he comes over. “Shion?” 

“Shion.” 

“It's not my fault that you two won't leave work long enough to get a date,” Shion says. “Anyone would be lucky to have you, but the only ones who do are criminals. Which is a crime in and of itself.” 

“You don't have bad taste,” Akane says. “I just don't really want to date anyone right now.” 

“It takes up too much time,” Kougami says. “Too much focus.” 

“That's not really it,” Akane says. “I just don't feel like dating anyone. I'm new to this. I probably will eventually.” 

“Have you two even looked at the guy?” Shion asks, coming over. “He won't be there forever.”

“Oh, right.” Akane and Kougami turn to scan the lobby area. The reception desk isn't so close to where they are that anyone standing there would immediately notice three people staring at them, but at the same time, if they did notice, it would be awkward. 

Akane makes a small “Oh!” of surprise, and Kougami makes a small “Oh” not of surprise, but of appreciation. 

“I told you,” Shion says. 

“I know him,” Akane says. “He's my friend.” 

“Would you consider dating him?” 

“No! He's my friend.” Akane sighs. “This is the last place I'd expect to see him, but...” 

“Okay, what about you, Kougami?” 

Kougami watches the guy. He's tall and thin with straight black hair covering most of his face, the rest pulled back into a small ponytail. He takes a rather large envelope from the woman at reception, nods at her, then turns and walks quickly out of the building. 

“Well?” Shion asks. 

“I couldn't see half his face,” Kougami says. “What was he doing?” 

“Do you think I keep track of everything that goes on in this building?” Shion asks. 

“Yes,” Akane and Kougami say at the same time. 

Shion flicks a piece of hair out of her face. “Well, I don't know what he's doing. Maybe Akane can enlighten you.” 

Akane's eyes widen. “Um, his name is Ginoza Nobuchika. He works at a flower shop. He's a florist.” 

“And do you think I should date him?” Kougami asks. 

Akane laughs. “Don't ask me things like that! Besides, he'd probably kill me if I said yes.” 

“Because he doesn't like men?” Shion asks. 

“No, because he'd rather see for himself.”

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 23:14 14 September 2015

hound1: it looks like we're the only ones here   
dime: yeah   
hound1: so...any interesting news?   
dime: I haven't seen anything about disfigured bodies, if that's what you're getting at.   
hound1: oh. Well, good.   
dime: I was hoping this chatroom wouldn't be all about murders.   
hound1: ah, yeah. It can get pretty morbid. We can talk about something else.   
dime: Other news?   
hound1: it doesn't have to be about the news. You know the guy who created this place?   
dime: Not personally. Just that his username is 1984.  
hound1: have you read it?   
dime: read what?   
hound1: 1984 by George Orwell.   
dime: no.   
hound1: it's a really good science-fiction book.   
dime: What if 1984's username just refers to the year he was born?   
hound1: Then I'd be disappointed, because it's a really great book. Do you read much science fiction?   
dime: No. I haven't read much of anything lately. It would be nice to get back to reading.   
hound1: Well, 1984 is short and compelling.   
dime: You really like this book.   
hound1: It's one of my favorites. I like to read. Especially sci-fi.   
dime: I've never really gotten into fiction. I used to read a lot of non-fiction.   
hound1: You might change your mind, after this. 

*

“What is that?” 

Ginoza nearly falls off his seat. He quickly puts down the book he's been reading, revealing Akane standing there, grinning at him. 

“It's a book,” Ginoza says, standing up. His face feels hot, probably because he's been caught slacking off on his job. Well, it's not slacking off if there's no one around. Some days can be slow, and on those days he either pays extra attention to the flowers or does something else. Today he feels less foggy than he has been, so he's chosen to read. 

Akane picks up the book and looks at the cover, raises her eyebrows. “1984 by George Orwell? Really? Since when do you like science-fiction?” 

“It was recommended to me,” Ginoza says. 

“By who?” Akane places the book on the counter and leans forward. 

Ginoza looks away. “This guy on a chatroom,” he mutters. 

“Ginoza! That's great! You've been talking to someone. Are you going to meet them?” 

Ginoza stares at her. “Meet them?” 

“That's the next step, isn't it?” Akane asks. 

“Is it?” He hasn't thought about it like that. “I mean, it's just a chatroom for people from around the city. You said I should get distractions--” 

“Things to do,” Akane corrects him. 

“--so I signed up. Most of the people are strange, but this one person recommended me a book. They might not be a guy, actually.” 

“You should meet them,” Akane says. 

“I don't even know who this person is,” Ginoza protests. “What if they're...I don't know...a criminal? Shouldn't you be against this sort of thing?” 

“You meet in a public place,” Akane says, “during the day, and let me know where you're going beforehand. You can be smart about it. Besides, it'd be nice to have a friend.” 

“You mean, someone else so that I won't bother you when you're busy working.” He doesn't mean for that to come out. 

Akane frowns at him. “No. You never bother me.” 

Ginoza keeps his mouth shut against the irrational protest he has, that he is bothering her. Which makes him feel a bit pathetic, that he can't just take her word. 

Akane, perhaps sensing his mood going downhill, nods towards the book on the counter. “How is it?” 

“Disturbing.” 

“I know someone who's a huge fan of that book,” Akane says. “I've never read it myself. I mean, I don't get to read much. But let me know how it goes.” 

“The book?” 

“And the meet-up.” 

“There is no meet-up.” 

Akane smiles at him. 

“Who do you know that likes this book?” Ginoza asks. 

“Oh, just a co-worker. Kougami Shinya.” Akane shrugs. “He tried to get me to read it but I didn't have the time.” 

Which reminds him: “Don't you have work?” Even though he'd rather she didn't go back. 

“Lunch break,” Akane says. “Wanted to see how you were doing. Good, apparently.” 

Good. Yes, Ginoza thinks. Things are going well. The book is disturbing and he's not sure that he's enjoying it, but things are going well. He's talking to more people than he normally would, he's settled into his new apartment. He gets to work in a peaceful environment all day, arranging flowers in ways that are aesthetically pleasing, that please other people. 

So he nods and even offers Akane a small smile. 

She practically beams at him, which makes him wonder if things had really been so bad before that she's genuinely happy that he seems content. 

*

Tokyo Chat Room Log 00:08 16 September 2015 

hound1: just us two again. Unless you forgot to log off and are away.   
dime: I'm here. This book is disturbing.   
hound1: Isn't it? Especially because it could so easily become reality.   
dime: There is that.   
hound1: I can recommend more if you want. No one at my job listens to my recommendations.   
dime: Why not?   
hound1: They're all too busy. And then we can talk about them. The books.   
dime: Won't we annoy the other people here?   
hound1: True. Maybe we can start a private chat? Or...we can meet up.   
hound1: Is that weird? One of my friends says that it's not a big deal these days.   
dime: We could do that.   
hound1: Great. I mean, my work schedule is really irregular but I'm sure we can figure something out.  
dime: Are you a doctor or something?   
hound1: Good guess. But no, I'm a detective. 

gameboyk has signed on. 

gameboyk: That's so cool! I wanna be a detective!   
hound1: It's hard.   
gameboyk: But it's not boring. Do you want to be a detective, dime?   
dime: No.   
gameboyk: Awwwwww   
dime: I have to go. 

dime has signed off. 

hound1: You scared him off.   
gameboyk: I'm the least scary person you'll ever meet, unless I have a gun.   
hound1: Why would you have a gun?   
gameboyk: Because I work with you! You're my boss! 

hound1 has signed off. 

*

The only sounds in the apartment are Dime's low whine and Ginoza's erratic, too-fast breathing. It stays that way for a while. 

Then Ginoza, in a moment of clarity, realizes that he's having some sort of panic attack and that he'd been told, multiple times in the past, to call someone if he needed help. 

He calls Akane. 

Akane picks up on the first ring, probably because Ginoza doesn't usually call her. He texts, because he knows that she isn't able to pick up calls in her line of work. At least, not very often. 

“Ginoza,” Akane says, and she sounds surprised, and also like she's in a public area. He can hear background noise, talking. 

“I'm sorry, I've interrupted you.” 

“What's wrong?” 

He wonders if it's that obvious just from saying five words. And if it is, that's pretty bad. “I just—you know.” 

“What happened?” Akane asks, in a way that tells him that she does know. “Should I come over?” 

“I—no—I...he's a detective,” Ginoza blurts out. 

There's a pause on the other line. “Who's a detective?” 

“The guy in the chatroom that I've been talking to,” Ginoza says. “H-he's a detective and I can't deal with that right now but...” 

“But you enjoy talking to him.” 

“Y-yes, but he's a detective, Akane.” 

Another pause. And then, “what's his name?” 

Ginoza's mind short-circuits a bit, because he hadn't expected Akane to ask that of all things. “W-what?” 

“He's a detective. He likes 1984. I'm a detective. I know someone who likes 1984. I might know him.” 

“Oh. I don't know. It could be the same person, but I don't see how that would help.” 

“Did he want to meet up?” 

“Yes.” 

“You know, your therapist said facing your fears is the best way to deal with this,” Akane says. 

“No, she said acknowledging them--” 

“Facing.” 

Ginoza closes his eyes. “Akane, I can't. You know why.” He's practically pleading with her right now. 

“You're friends with me,” Akane says. 

Yes, Ginoza wants to shout, but I worry about you every day and I lose sleep over it on my worst days and if you don't text or call I start to think the worst and I can't eat or concentrate on anything... But all he says is, “I know.” 

“Tomorrow I'll ask him. And if he says that he is the guy you were talking to on the chatroom, I'll take you to meet him.” 

“Tsunemori!” 

“Ginoza, I think this will be good for you.” 

Ginoza exhales. He considers throwing the phone across the room, but then he'd need a new phone. 

“This might be...exactly what you need.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Ginoza asks. 

“I have to go,” Akane says, “but I'll text you.” 

“Akane--” 

The phone clicks off. 

Ginoza sets it aside and scratches Dime behind the ears. His hands have stopped shaking. He has to admit, even if Akane didn't make him feel better, she did manage to distract him. The panic attack is fading, leaving him exhausted, but he knows he won't be able to sleep. Because if he does, his mind will be turning over the idea of detectives and danger. 

And he can't go there. He can't face that, even if Akane thinks he should. 

And he hates himself for it. He feels weak. So he lies in bed, curled up next to Dime, and waits for Akane's text. 

*

“I'm not even going to think about how weird this is,” Kougami says, “that you know the person I've been chatting with online. And that it's the same person Shion pointed out to us the other day.” 

“It's a funny coincidence,” Akane says, “but then again, it's not surprising. Ginoza has a connection to the Tokyo police force.” Then she claps her hand over her mouth. 

Kougami can't resist something like that. “What connection?” 

“Me,” Akane answers, a bit too quickly. 

Kougami frowns at her, but she turns away and starts shuffling a stack of reports that don't really need to be re-arranged. 

“Anyway,” Akane continues, very deliberately not looking at him, “I think you two will get along. Just maybe don't talk about your job so much.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” Kagari chimes in from where he'd been eavesdropping a few desks away, “not everyone cares about the police.” 

Kougami turns to him. “You.” 

“Me!” 

“Is everyone in this office also on that chatroom?” Kougami asks. 

“It's a good way to keep track of what's going on,” Akane says. 

“You two are hopeless,” Kagari says. “At least try not to bring work into your leisure activities.” 

“You're on there too!” 

“Yeah, but that's because I think it's a cool concept. So, Akane-chan is setting you up on a date with dime?” 

“It's not a date,” Kougami says, at the same time as Akane says, “It's a meet-up.” 

“Just don't bore him to death by gushing about George Orwell the whole time,” Kagari says. 

Kougami glares at him. “No one asked you.” 

“Anyway, don't be late,” Akane says. “I'm sure you won't be, but just in case. Ginoza likes being on time.” 

Kagari takes the opportunity to go back to his own desk, and Kougami turns to Akane, confused. “I'm never late.” 

*

He is late. By ten minutes.

The ramen place Akane had chosen for them is small, and there's plenty of people sitting alone, so it doesn't actually look bad that Ginoza is sitting by himself at a table near the window. 

Kougami recognizes Ginoza from the brief sighting in the police station lobby, although it's still a bit of a thrill seeing him up close. Not that he's easier to decipher, with his hair obscuring part of his face and glasses that obscure his eyes. He's tapping his fingers on the table. Part of Kougami wants to hang back and observe him for a bit—detective instinct—but Akane's reminder not to be late repeats in his head and he heads towards the table. 

“I'm Kougami Shinya,” Kougami says, and Ginoza stands up. Kougami is surprised to see that Ginoza is taller than him. “Or hound1, online.” He shakes Ginoza's hand and they both sit down. 

“Nice to meet you,” Ginoza says, folding his hands around a small cup of tea. “I hope you don't mind, I ordered a drink already.” 

“I don't,” Kougami says, flagging down the waiter to take his own order. That done, he turns his attention back to the man across from him. Ginoza looks tired, and a bit nervous judging by the way his fingers seem to be involuntarily tapping against every surface within reach. 

“You work with Akane,” Ginoza says, haltingly. “What are the chances?” 

“Akane's your friend?” Kougami asks. 

“Yes. We've known each other for quite a while.” 

“Ah. She's fun to work with. A brilliant detective, really,” Kougami says. 

“I'll take your word for it,” Ginoza says. He adjusts his glasses. “I finished 1984.” 

They talk about 1984 for quite a bit while they eat. Kougami has a lot to say on the subject, and Ginoza looks like he's willing to listen. He seems to relax when Kougami talks about science fiction, and Kougami finds himself wanting to put a smile on Ginoza's face. Maybe it's because Ginoza looks tired. He isn't sure. 

The conversation reaches a lull, because there's only so much to say about the book, so Kougami asks, “Do you sell synthetic flowers at your shop?” 

“How did you know I'm a florist?” Ginoza asks. 

“You just told me.” 

Ginoza looks a bit annoyed at that, so Kougami adds, “Akane mentioned it.” 

“It's not my shop,” Ginoza says, looking a bit relieved. “Why do you ask?” 

“I don't really like synthetic flowers,” Kougami says, “but I can't always tell the difference. I always feel cheated when I think that a flower is real and it turns out that it's fake.” 

“Aren't detectives supposed to be able to distinguish those sorts of things?” Ginoza asks, and there it is, a smirk. Not quite a smile but close enough. 

“We're not all flower experts,” Kougami says. 

“We don't sell synthetic flowers.” Ginoza says. “Most people who come into a flower shop want real flowers, so there's not really a point in selling fake ones.” 

“I guess the advantage of a fake flower is that it doesn't die.” 

“But then you appreciate the arrangement less,” Ginoza says. 

Kougami raises an eyebrow. “Because it won't always be there?” 

“Yes.” 

Kougami twirls his spoon in his near-empty bowl. Ginoza's eaten less than him. Kougami realizes that he's probably trying to be too analytical while off the job, but it's instinct, and instinct is hard to shut down. 

He goes with another instinct instead, one that's served him well in the past. “Want to go back to my place?” 

Ginoza hesitates. 

“You don't have to worry,” Kougami adds. “I meant for a drink. Getting to know each other in a more relaxing environment.” 

“You don't have work?” 

“I have the afternoon off. Have to go back tonight, though.” He grins. “Please? I'll get bored otherwise.” 

“Okay,” Ginoza says. “As long as you don't find me boring.” 

“Of course not.” 

Which is how, half an hour later, they end up in Kougami's apartment. Ginoza takes a seat on the couch, but he has to move quite a lot of papers to be able to sit there. Kougami apologizes for the mess as he hands Ginoza a small glass of whiskey. Ginoza pales when he sees the glass of amber liquid and ice. 

“You okay?” Kougami asks. 

“Yeah,” Ginoza says, placing the glass on Kougami's messy coffee table. “You really need to clean this place.” 

“Hey, I wasn't expecting company,” Kougami says, sitting down beside him. 

“Even if you weren't, wouldn't it be easier to think in a place that's better organized?” 

“I can think just fine,” Kougami says. “Besides, I know where everything is.” 

Ginoza casts a doubtful glance around the room. “Really?” 

“Yes. I'm guessing you're a clean-freak.” 

“I am not a clean freak,” Ginoza says. “I just like to be organized.” 

Kougami takes a sip of whiskey. It warms him from the inside out, and perhaps that's why he asks, “So why did you become a florist? Don't say because you like flowers.” 

“I do like flowers,” Ginoza says, perplexed. 

“Lots of people like flowers, and they don't become florists,” Kougami points out. 

“Why did you become a detective?” Ginoza shoots back. 

“I like analyzing and problem solving,” Kougami tells him. “I enjoy being able to bring criminals to justice.” 

“You could have become a lawyer,” Ginoza says. 

“Ah, but being a lawyer is just paperwork and talking,” Kougami says. “I like action.” 

“You like action,” Ginoza repeats. “You like putting yourself in danger every day.” 

“In order to keep other people safe,” Kougami says. “I think it's a good trade off.” 

“What about the people who care about you?” 

“What about them? They're safer because of what we do,” Kougami says. Ginoza tenses. “I mean, plenty of people on the force have families. And it might not be the best job for them to be doing, but at the same time, it makes them feel satisfied to be protecting this city.” 

“You want to protect people,” Ginoza says, though it's quiet. Like he's thinking to himself rather than engaging with Kougami. 

Kougami frowns. “Yes.” 

“Well, then,” Ginoza rubs the back of his neck and gives Kougami a weak smile, “I suppose being a florist is a silly thing in comparison.” 

“No,” Kougami tells him. “You make people happy.” 

“Temporarily,” Ginoza says. “Flowers die.” 

“Then why are you a florist?” 

Ginoza bites his lip, actually thinking about it this time. Then he says, “Different flowers mean different things. There's a whole language that individual flowers and combinations of flowers make up, and even if you don't know the language, you can still get a feeling. They're very expressive. Even if you don't know what a flower means, you can still express a feeling with a flower. Or a group of flowers. I like finding different ways to express different feelings with them.” 

Kougami stares at him. 

“Sorry,” Ginoza adds. “That probably sounds like nonsense.” 

“No, it doesn't,” Kougami says. “You'd be surprised at the meaning people find in different things. Like,” he says the first thing that comes to mind, “the people who analyze blood spatters.” 

“That is nothing like flowers,” Ginoza tells him, but he looks amused. 

“Yeah, I didn't think so,” Kougami says, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I guess it's just that in my line of work, that's the kind of language we're dealing with.” 

“That sounds...” Ginoza trails off. 

“Horrible?” Kougami finishes for him. “Yeah, I guess. Blood spatters, finger prints, injuries on dead bodies or live ones. It's all a bit morbid, the way criminals communicate.” 

“I never thought of it that way,” Ginoza says. 

“Well, you know, as detectives we need to read into everything,” Kougami says. “Follow everything up. Some of it doesn't mean anything, and some of it does. But you never know what will lead somewhere.” 

“I don't have that problem with flowers,” Ginoza says, half-rising. “Speaking of which, I do have to get back to the store. It's not as rigorous as detective work but we have to make money somehow.” 

Kougami stands up as well and walks him to the door. “Thanks for coming. I'd, uh, like to see you again?” 

“Text me,” Ginoza says. He fishes out a slip of paper, a receipt, and a pen and writes his number on it, which he hands to Kougami. Kougami takes it, automatically looks at the receipt (Ginoza bought bread and tea two days ago) and pockets it.

For a moment, with the door half-open, they stand there, unsure of what to do. Whether they should shake hands, hug, or something else. 

Ginoza breaks the silence by ducking away and heading down the hall. Kougami watches him go for a moment before closing the door and heading back to the sofa. 

He notices Ginoza's glass of whiskey, still full and the ice melted, and wonders why he didn't drink it.


	2. Dinner and a Show

Ginoza stares at the row of cut roses in front of him without really seeing them. They're red, like blood, like the blood in that report he'd seen on Kougami's coffee table while Kougami had been making their drinks. He'd opened it out of curiosity, had thought about telling Kougami that it's unwise to leave such important documents out in the open where anyone could see. 

But he was confronted with a gruesome photograph labeled “Sasayama-1,” which considered of a man mutilated beyond looking human, body twisted into some grotesque shape. Like the ones that some people had been talking about in the chatroom. He'd glanced down, caught the words, “plasticine” and “bones broken, body mutilated mostly while victim was still alive” and he'd had to put it down. 

He'd said it couldn't be real because he really believed that no one would be deranged enough to do such a thing. And he'd been proven wrong. And the whole time, Kougami had known he was wrong. Did the other users know, too? 

And then Kougami had come back. 

He'd latched onto Kougami as a distraction because he didn't want to think about any of that. But after Kougami got talking about the language of criminals, he'd decided that an afternoon with flowers might do him some good. 

But this time the flowers aren't helping. 

He walks to the front of the shop, switches the “Open” sign to “Closed,” and heads back behind the counter, picking up his phone. He opens the internet browser and googles, “Sasayama.” 

Several newspaper articles pop up, and Ginoza reads every single one. They aren't detailed like the report. They mention several bodies found in “unusual condition” and a murder spree across the city. None of the articles are front page, probably because no one significant has died. And none of the articles state how the bodies looked beyond describing them as unusual, which makes Ginoza think that the police are trying to keep this to themselves. As he reads, his knees grow weak, his limbs feel numb, and a buzzing sound starts growing and growing in his head. He sinks to the floor, one hand pressed over his mouth, the other clutching the phone. 

And then a text pops up, blocking the latest article he's brought up. From Kougami, reading, “Dinner tomorrow @6? Meet @ police station?” 

Ginoza makes a choking noise. After what he's seen, he wants to run as far away from Kougami as possible. But instead, he texts back that he will meet Kougami. 

Maybe it's because Akane has tried so hard to get him to meet other people. Maybe it's because despite the danger he always puts himself in, Kougami is genuinely interesting, and Ginoza is curious about him, fascinated by him, frustrated by him. Maybe it's because Ginoza knows that if he tries to forget about Kougami, he won't be able to. It'll just make things worse. 

But he can't get the horrible image of the mutilated Sasayama out of his mind. And the idea that this could happen again, and again, and if he hadn't seen that file in Kougami's apartment he wouldn't have known. 

The worst part is, Sasayama was a detective, and he'd died while investigating other, similar murders. 

And Ginoza knows that Kougami and Akane are investigating that case. 

He doesn't sleep that night. 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 22:37 18 September 2015

Hacker: There is a serial killer loose in the city and the papers aren't covering it.   
Hacker: Isn't that strange?   
gameboyk: They are, it's just not front page.   
Hacker: I wonder why.   
theinformant: There's lots of news. They probably don't have enough information.   
theinformant: Both the journalists and the police.   
gameboyk: Didn't you say you'd seen more than pictures of the victims?   
Hacker: That was a joke.   
jellyfish: You shouldn't joke about things like that.   
Hacker: I have a dark sense of humor.   
gameboyk: Are you really a hacker? 

*

The police station is busy because it's in the center of the city. Kougami stands outside, smoking, and Ginoza wrinkles his nose. 

“It's a terrible habit,” Kougami tells him before taking another long drag of his cigarette. 

“Somehow, I don't think you care,” Ginoza says. 

Kougami laughs and grinds the stub against the wall of the building, putting it out. “No, not really. Let's go.” 

He leads Ginoza towards a police car. Ginoza balks as soon as he sees it. 

“What?” Kougami asks. “I'm just on a dinner break. I know it's intimidating, but you're an upstanding citizen, right?” 

“Of course,” Ginoza says, and he gets into the passenger side. 

He's been in police cars before, but he's still surprised by how shocking it feels. How foreign to other cars. There's a radio in between the passenger and driver's seats. Behind him is a screen separating the back from the front. He's pretty sure that if he looks under the seats, he'll find weapons. He knows that if he looks too close at Kougami, he might see a gun. 

So he keeps his eyes staring straight ahead, on the road. 

The radio crackles to life. “Detective Tsunemori requesting assistance.” 

Ginoza's blood runs cold. 

Kougami sighs. “I'm sorry, Ginoza. We might have to make a detour.” 

Ginoza doesn't hear the rest of what Kougami's saying. He knows that there's radio communication going on, and then Kougami turns on his lights and sirens and swerves down another street, going faster and faster, and Ginoza can't breathe. He doesn't want to see, but he does, because he wants to know that Akane will be okay, and this is the worst thing that could have happened tonight. 

Kougami swings his car into a side street, and Ginoza becomes aware of his surroundings. “Stay here!” Kougami barks at him, and he hears the car door slam and sees Kougami run in front of him, gun out. There's someone on the floor, and he catches sight of Akane standing over them. 

A loud BANG and shattering glass, and it takes a moment as Ginoza is knocked against the door to realize that he's just been shot at. His hands shake as he searches for the door handle, manages to find it, and he falls out of the car just as another shot goes off, jarring Ginoza's heart in his chest. 

Ginoza scrambles away from the car, ducking low, and he hears Kougami shout, sees Kougami running towards him. Ginoza turns just in time to see another man rushing towards him, pointing a gun straight at him--

BANG! 

The man's head explodes into red, warm wetness splattering Ginoza's face and shirt. He hears the wet thud of a body hitting the ground, and his ears are ringing. Someone grabs his arm and he jerks away, staggers back towards the car to have something to lean on. He sees Kougami in front of him, and everything comes back into focus. 

*

Even Kougami has to admit that their second meeting is a disaster. 

He takes in the blood on Ginoza's shirt and the wide-eyed stare he's directing at the gun in Kougami's hand and sighs because damn, he's fucked up. He's brought Ginoza to a crime-scene and as a result, Ginoza was almost killed and witnessed a criminal getting shot in the head. 

“I would completely understand if you never wanted to talk to me again.” 

Ginoza lifts his eyes to Kougami's face. “What the hell just happened?” 

Kougami claps him on the back, causing him to flinch violently. He withdraws his hand, frowning. “Oh, sorry. Uh, you just witnessed your first shootout.” 

Ginoza looks at the body, then quickly away. “He's dead.” 

“To be fair,” another voice says, and Kagari pops up behind Kougami, bleeding from his arm, “he was trying to kill us, and he's an accomplice to murder.” 

“Suspected,” Kougami mutters. “You should get that checked out.” He nods at Kagari's arm. Kagari ignores this. 

“Come on,” Kagari says, rolling his eyes. “He's been on camera doing it and everything.” 

“Still.” Kougami turns to Ginoza. “We have shock blankets.” 

“I don't want a shock blanket,” Ginoza mutters. He takes a step back from both of them. 

“Well you're not going home,” Kagari says, and Kougami gives him a dirty look. “What? He's a witness. He's gotta give a statement. We just shot a guy, it's not like they'll take our word that he was attacking us.” 

“I know the last thing you want to do is keep thinking about this,” Kougami says, rubbing the back of his neck, “but this idiot's right, unfortunately.” 

“Fine,” Ginoza says. “That's fine. I can give a statement.” 

“Are you sure?” 

The look Ginoza gives him is unreadable. He sounds almost exasperated when he says, “Yes, Kougami.” 

The drive back to the police station is awkward. Ginoza is put in the back of Akane's car, while Kougami rides in the passenger seat. Kagari has been taken away by the ambulance, wrapped in a shock blanket and complaining that it's just a scratch, then laughing at his own joke because it's actually a bullet wound. 

“So, what happened?” Kougami asks. 

“We got a call, reported sighting of Choe Go-Sung,” Akane explains. “Followed up on it. Kagari found him first and got shot. Choe decided to start a shoot-out and that's when I called you. He did a lot of damage for one man.” 

“Well, he won't be anymore,” Kougami says. 

Akane glances back at Ginoza. “Are you okay?” When she turns back to the road, Kougami sees that she looks incredibly worried. 

He must have really fucked up. 

“I'm fine,” Ginoza says, but the words sound hollow. 

“I can take you home after if you want,” Akane says. 

A sharp intake of breath. “I-I don't know.” 

“We can decide later.” She sounds gentle. There are plenty of things Kougami wants to ask. Like just how good friends are they, that Akane would offer to accompany him home. 

“I can take you home,” Kougami suggests, “since I took you out and all.” 

“I don't know,” Ginoza repeats, and then they pull up to the station. 

*

“Okay. Run this by me again—you were being taken to dinner by Detective Kougami when he got a call from Detective Tsunemori requesting backup, and he drove you to the scene of the crime.” 

Kougami rubs the back of his neck and exhales. He and Akane stand outside of the interrogation room. There's a one-way window where they can look in and see Ginoza sitting across the table from Detective Sugo, who glances up towards where he knows Kougami must be watching. 

“Yes,” Ginoza says. 

Sugo massages his temples. “And then Detective Kougami told you to wait in the car?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you waited in the car?” 

“Yes.” 

“What happened next?” 

“I saw Kougami walk towards Tsunemori, and there was someone on the ground,” Ginoza says. “Then there was a bang, and the window shattered, and I realized someone was shooting at me. I got out of the car, and I saw this man running towards me with a gun in his hand. Then he was shot.” 

“So this man was going to shoot you?” 

“Given that he'd shot at me twice already, I would say so.” 

“Okay. Okay. Thank you, Ginoza-san. You can go now.” 

Ginoza stands up, his chair scraping against the hard floor, and heads out of the room. 

Kougami moves quickly to intercept him. Ginoza sees him, looks unsurprised but tired, and tries to move past him. 

“Wait-” 

“I want to go home.” 

“Hold on,” Kougami says. “I can take you home.” 

Ginoza raises an eyebrow. “Like you took me to dinner?” 

“That,” Kougami says, “was a...it wasn't supposed to happen. Also, I have a few days off while we sort this out.” 

“While we sort this out,” Ginoza repeats, before lowering his voice. “You killed a man.” 

Kougami's eyes widen. To hear it put so bluntly, and in anger, is shocking. “He was going to kill you.” 

“I know,” Ginoza says. “But you seem...” 

“I'm not devastated,” Kougami says. “Is that what you mean? Well, I would have been if he'd shot you and you'd died, or gotten hurt. I think this was the better of those outcomes.” 

Ginoza looks away. 

“Let me take you home,” Kougami says. 

“I can manage fine on my own,” Ginoza tells him. “And don't think I'm not grateful. I am. I just...wish it hadn't been necessary to begin with.” 

He pushes past Kougami and heads down the hall, and Kougami stands there, not sure whether to go after him or not. He's worried, but he can't force Ginoza into anything. 

And maybe being alone is what he needs, more than he needs Kougami to be with him. 

Akane comes into the hallway to find Kougami standing there. “He'll come around,” she says. “He's just...he really doesn't like this sort of thing.” 

“Being shot at?” Kougami asks. 

Akane shakes her head. “The dangers of being a detective.” 

Kougami's brow furrows. “He's not a detective.” 

“No,” Akane says, “but his dad was.” 

*

Kougami sends Ginoza a text reading, “Can I come over to make sure you're okay?” 

Ginoza responds a few minutes later with, “I am okay.” 

To which Kougami responds, “Can I come over anyway?” 

There's a long pause in which Kougami has too much time to think. So he ends up searching “Ginoza” in the police database to get more information on Ginoza's father. 

Nothing comes up, which he finds strange. That's when Shion leans over his shoulder and asks, “What are you doing?” 

Kougami jumps. “Can you stop that?” 

“I just wanted to ask how your night was,” Shion says. “I've heard a few things. You shot someone.” 

“Yeah, well--” 

“Ginoza, hmm? Is that the person you took on a joy-ride?” 

“It wasn't a joy-ride.” A pause. “But yeah.” 

“He wouldn't be in the database if he hasn't committed any crimes,” Shion points out. 

“I know. Akane told me his dad was a detective and that's why he didn't want me to take him home after the interrogation. I screwed up, Shion.” 

“It wasn't your fault,” Shion says, frowning at the computer. “Did his dad die recently?” 

“What?” Kougami turns to her. “Akane never said he was dead. Just that he used to be a detective.” 

“Nothing turns someone off detectives like having a dead detective for a father,” Shion reasons. “I can do some research if you want.”

“Yeah, please,” Kougami says. 

“You probably need to be thinking of other things anyway,” Shion says. “Was it a date?” 

“No! We're...” He doesn't know what they are, actually. Akane would say friends. Ginoza would probably say that they were people who met online and just happened to meet in real life, too. Kougami would like to be friends. Or more. 

“Complicated?” Shion prompts with a smile. 

Kougami's phone buzzes, and he sees a message from Ginoza. It says, “Fine” followed by an address. 

“I gotta go,” Kougami says, standing up. “Let me know what you find.” 

Shion smirks at him. 

“He's not my boyfriend,” Kougami says. 

He really hopes she doesn't realize he's the same guy that she pointed out to him a few days ago.


	3. Getting Art Supplies Is Easy When You Have a Supplier

Tokyo Chatroom Log 13:49 20 September 2015 

gameboyk: AHHHHH! It's all over the headlines! Police shootout! Hacker this is your kind of thing!   
gameboyk: I guess they're not online.   
passionplay: I saw that. Do you think it has to do with the recent murders?   
theinformant: I'd bet my bra on it.   
gameboyk: theinformant is a woman?!   
passionplay: there are more of us than you think 

*

Ginoza doesn't actually live that far from the police station, but Kougami knows that the area he lives in is quiet and mostly free of crime. He passes a flower shop on the way and wonders if that's the same one where Ginoza works. 

He files that information away for later and concentrates on what he's going to say to Ginoza when he sees him. Because sorry probably isn't good enough. 

Part of him wants to ask about Ginoza's father, but that would probably be considered tactless. 

He ends up in front of Ginoza's door, knocks a few times, and steps back to wait. 

Ginoza answers, looking tired. He's changed his clothes, and there's a scrape on his cheek. “Come in,” he says. 

Kougami does and is immediately almost knocked over by a large dog. 

“This is Dime,” Ginoza says. There's something tired in his voice as he leads Kougami to his kitchen and sits at the counter. Kougami takes the seat opposite, Dime nudging at his legs. 

“I'm sorry,” Kougami says, and feels a bit ashamed that he hasn't managed to come up with anything better. 

Ginoza looks at him, his gaze piercing, and it's the first time that Kougami really sees his eyes. They're green, and sharp, and it's very rare that he feels such an analytical stare directed at him. It's usually him doing it to someone else. 

“You've gotten used to it,” Ginoza says after a moment. 

“What?” 

“Killing.” 

Kougami sighs. This is the hardest thing to explain to anyone not in his position. He still hasn't figured out quite what to say. “I've accepted it as part of the job,” he says. “In order to keep people safe.” 

Ginoza looks away. 

“You probably want to know how what happened tonight fits in with a larger case we're investigating,” Kougami adds, because that's usually what people ask when they've been involved in something: What the hell happened? 

But to his surprise, Ginoza says, “I don't.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

They sit in silence for a moment, Ginoza tapping his fingers on the countertop. 

Then Ginoza says, “If it hadn't been Kagari, or me, it could've been you or Akane.” 

“Like I said, it's a risk that--” 

“I know.” Ginoza swallows. “I think it would be better if we didn't continue...whatever this is.” 

Kougami stares at him. “What?” 

“It's dangerous.” 

“Look, what happened tonight...I won't let that happen again,” Kougami says. “You'll be fine.” 

Ginoza shakes his head, looks away. “That's not...Kougami, we haven't known each other for long. I think this is the best choice.” 

“I understand you're angry--” 

“I'm not angry.” 

“Then why would you just cut me off?” 

Ginoza looks at him again, and his expression is cold. Closed off. “You should leave.” 

“I just got here.” 

“I didn't think you'd understand unless I told you in person.” 

Kougami is tempted to argue, or yell, but he remembers that this is Akane's friend, and he should probably give him some space. Maybe he can have Akane talk to him. He probably won't get anywhere with Ginoza like this. 

“Fine,” he says, pushing himself away from the counter. “Have a good night.” Stiffly, he leaves the apartment. 

On the drive back he calls Akane. “We need to talk about Ginoza.” 

“Is he okay?” Akane asks. 

“He just said he never wants to see me again,” Kougami says. “Not in those exact words but he was pretty clear.” 

Akane makes a noise of frustration. “I'm sorry, Kougami. I'll talk to him. Don't hold it against him.” 

“It's hard not to,” Kougami says. “I mean I know what happened is bad but he didn't even give me a chance to make up for it.” 

“I know. I'll talk to him. It's...difficult.” 

“What is?” 

“I'll talk to him.” 

Kougami frowns as Akane hangs up the phone. He has the strange feeling that every time he talks to her about Ginoza, she's avoiding something. 

But he pushes the thought out of his head. The best thing, he decides, is to go home and stop thinking about this whole mess of a night, to go to sleep and not worry about fixing things until tomorrow. 

*

“Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?” 

“I want nothing to do with any of this,” Ginoza snaps into his phone. His voice is a little too loud for a private conversation, but there aren't many people on this particular street, so he allows himself this one thing. 

“He didn't mean for that to happen,” Akane says. 

“But it did happen, and it could keep happening.” 

“Ginoza, are you upset that you almost got shot or that Kougami could have gotten shot?” 

“You could have gotten shot,” Ginoza says. 

“You're still friends with me.” 

“Yes, well, I don't think I need another person to worry about.” 

“Kougami isn't in danger--”

“You're investigating a murder case, aren't you,” Ginoza cuts her off. “So you will be in danger. And there will always be murder cases.” 

He hears Akane sigh. “I was worried about you, you know.” 

“I'm fine,” Ginoza says through gritted teeth. “I'll be fine as long as I don't have to think about Kougami anymore.” 

“Where are you?” Akane asks, just as Ginoza passes through a pair of gates. 

“On my way to work,” he says. “I have to go.” And he hangs up. 

He doesn't like lying to her, but he doesn't feel like explaining himself either. He walks past rows of gravestones, in a cemetery that definitely isn't on his way to work. 

After two minutes he finds the one he's looking for. He kneels down and mutters, “Sorry, I haven't brought you anything today. I...” He takes a deep breath. It comes out in stutters. “You should've been around for me to talk to. This doesn't help.” 

He stands up. He doesn't know why he came in the first place. A dead man is no better than an absent father. 

He needs a person. 

He wraps his arms around himself and stares at the words carved into stone in front of him. He's seen them many times, but they're the only thing to look at of the person buried underneath. 

He takes a step back, and suddenly, someone grabs him from behind, pulling him nearly off his feet. 

He yells, but another hand slams into his face, stunning him and covering his mouth. 

“Struggle, and I'll snap your neck,” a voice murmurs in his ear. Male, as far as Ginoza can tell. Not that it helps, because he can't see a face, and if this person doesn't let go of him he'll be late for work. 

It almost makes him laugh, the thought of being late because someone grabbed him while he was visiting his dead father. 

He goes slack in the person's grip, allowing them to shift. He hopes they'll ease their grip on him, and maybe he'll be able to get away. He hears rustling, and then feels a sharp pain in his neck that causes him to jerk involuntarily. The other person doesn't seem to mind this, and a moment later Ginoza realizes why. He starts to feel heavy, and his knees buckle. 

Then he passes out in the stranger's arms. 

*

Kougami doesn't want to ask Akane if she's talked to Ginoza, because that would be like admitting that he cares what Ginoza thinks of him. Which he does, but it would be like admitting that he cares more than he should for Ginoza just being someone he's recommended a book to. 

But Akane is right there and close and she catches him staring at her, so she says, “I talked to Ginoza.” But the way she says it suggests that she doesn't want to talk about it. 

“Oh,” is all Kougami says. 

“He's being stubborn,” Akane says. 

“Look, I know it was dangerous, but it's not like he got shot.” 

“He was never worried about that,” Akane says, and Kougami raises his eyebrows. “He was worried about you or me getting shot. That's why he's angry.” 

Kougami bites his tongue. 

“Hello hello!” Shion comes into the office in a whirl of blonde hair and enthusiasm. “I have some news for you all!” 

“What?” Kagari jumps up from where he's been hiding at his desk, possibly playing video games and not doing any actual work.

“Another body,” Shion says. “A particularly artistic murder. None of the body parts are in their original positions.” 

Akane stares at her and Kougami makes a face. 

And Kagari claps his hands together and says, “Let's check it out!” 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 18:32 23 September 2015 

1984: It's awfully quiet, isn't it.   
1984: I wonder if something's going on in the city today. 

*

“Blood is quite a striking medium with which to create art.” 

It feels like there's something crushing Ginoza's chest. It takes everything he has to suck in a breath, and it still doesn't feel like enough. He can't even open his eyes, can't move. Everything feels heavy, like someone's draped a blanket made of lead over his whole body. 

“The body provides a lot of materials, even when excluding the possibility of death.” 

Another forced breath, which makes him wonder if he wouldn't breathe if he stopped trying so hard. If he'd slip back into unconsciousness. His brain is slow to parse the words that the person with him is saying. Blood, bodies, those are things that don't have to do with him. They aren't even sentences. 

“In fact, the limitation should force you to become more creative.” 

Creative. Creative. A third breath. 

“You have quite the resource at your disposal. And the best part is that now you raise the stakes of the game with your art, by using someone the police know, who is an innocent civilian.” 

Police. Ginoza wrenches his eyes open, and everything is blurs of color and light and dark, and something moves, and it's hard to keep his eyes from closing. Something cold touches his hand. 

“He's awake.” 

He wants to ask a question. He only manages to make a strange, clicking noise in his throat. 

“Ah, you're drugged. It'll take a while to wear off.” 

Drugged. But he was at the cemetery. Why would he be... 

The sensation of a hand clamping over his mouth. He gasps, sudden energy flooding into him, enough to make his whole body jerk. The colors and shapes resolve themselves into a man leaning over him, thin and well-dressed with long white hair. 

He's smiling. 

“Who...” Ginoza mouths. 

The white-haired man smiles. “You're the man who's going to light a fire under the Tokyo police force.” 

Ginoza shuts his mouth, eyes going wide. He's going to kill Kougami. Or Akane. Kougami, probably, because Kougami took him along to that stupid gun fight which he suspected, and now pretty much knows, had something to do with the murders. 

Dread pools heavy in his stomach, heavier than the feeling that had immobilized him before. 

“I'm Makishima Shogo by the way,” the man says. “And I love people.” 

*

Shion had described the newest body as artistic. Kougami doesn't know a lot about art, but the thing in front of him isn't something he'd put in a museum for other people to look at and ponder over. It's obscene. 

“But what does it mean?” Kagari asks, tilting his head to the side and placing his hand on his chin. “What is the metaphor?” 

“You're not an art student,” Kougami says. “Cut it out.” 

“We need an ID on the body,” Akane tells one of the forensics staff. All of them are swarming the scene, taking pictures and samples and making sure that everything has been documented before the body gets carted off to the morgue. 

Not that the morgue will know what to do with it, Kougami thinks. 

There's also press nearby, and it's a struggle just to keep them from being able to get a photograph of the body. Because whoever is related to this poor victim probably won't want to see their disturbingly rearranged body on the front of every newspaper and website in Japan. 

Kougami moves closer the body. The head is in the middle, underneath the legs and above the arms. In each hand is tissue that one of the forensics analysts tells him is a breast. The torso is split in two, placed on either side of the head. The whole thing has a slight sheen to it, probably from the plasticine. 

The head itself is small, brown eyes wide in horror. The mouth is slightly open, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. The hair is short, bangs framing the face and slightly longer strands of hair hanging down the side. A popular style. It's slightly similar to Akane's own. 

“If this gets out, people will go nuts,” Kagari says, leaning in close and narrowing his eyes. “She looks really young, doesn't she?” 

“One of the other victims was young,” Kougami says. “Then there were some men and one woman, older.” 

“And Sasayama,” Kagari says. 

Kougami's mouth twists. “And Sasayama.” 

He doesn't like thinking about Sasayama. An officer under him who somehow caught the attention of the murderer and ended up a victim himself. His body was gruesome, though luckily not as bad as this. 

Kougami had liked Sasayama, even though he was brash and a bit careless and flirted with Akane even more than Kagari did. Sasayama's death was the first time the risks of the job became clearly apparent to him, and in the worst possible way. 

“So, Kou-chan, what's the metaphor?” 

“Kagari, cut it out.” 

“I'm being serious,” Kagari says. “I mean, come on, it has to mean something. No one does this just for kicks, right?” 

“There are some messed up people in the world,” Kougami says. 

“Yeah, but this seems deliberate. It's not like the person doing this is senselessly angry or anything.” 

Kougami takes a step back. “Whoever did this has access to materials that can dismember bodies. They have access to plasticine. They have access to something that can transport these...things to public places, because I doubt they set them up here.” 

“Whoever did this is screwing with us,” Kagari says. 

Kougami pinches the bridge of his nose. “They're certainly pissing me off.” 

*

“Thank you for this, Makishima-san. The opportunity to work using only materials that can be obtained from a living body, and to experience what taking those materials does to the subject, has added a new dimension to my art. I can channel his suffering into my pieces. As he is crying out, I will make the art cry out.” 

Ginoza opens his eyes. He's on his side, lying on the uncomfortable surface of a cot. One of his arms hangs off the edge, and he can see a tube stuck in his hand, which is too pale. Beyond that, there is a young woman sitting in front of a canvas. Her back is to him. Her hair is very long and black, sweeping the edge of the stool she sits on and obscuring most of her clothes. What he can see looks like a white shirt and a khaki, pleated skirt. Knee-high socks. 

“Of course,” Makishima says, from somewhere he can't see. “I look forward to your new work.” 

“I like the idea of starting with something simple and escalating,” the young woman says. And she sounds very, very young. Too young. Young enough that the clothes she's wearing might be a school uniform. Ginoza shudders. 

And then the young woman raises a paintbrush. She swipes it in a downward slash across the canvas. 

A slash not unlike the sort caused by a knife across skin. Just as red. 

Because the paint is not paint. It's blood, and it's his. 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 01:55 25 September 2015 

passionplay: There's rumors of another disfigured body having been found in the city. Details?   
theinformant: You are perverted, aren't you? ;)   
gameboyk: It's probably better if we don't know. Otherwise we'd all be scared!   
theinformant: I couldn't possibly spread such disturbing information.   
passionplay: So you know something?   
theinformant: Not at all. But if I did, I couldn't expose you to something like that.   
gameboyk: ditto!   
gameboyk: But I don't. The only thing I can tell you is some advice. Stay inside!   
gameboyk: And don't piss anyone off! 

* 

Shion's laughter is annoying. 

“Kougami, this is the fifth time you've checked your phone in the past hour.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I'd say you have it bad,” Shion says. “But I'll leave you alone for now.” Which means that she'll probably leave him alone for half an hour to do actual work, before getting bored and bothering him again. 

Kougami turns his attention towards his computer, setting the cellphone in his field of vision. Akane is elsewhere, on a less serious call, and since the day before, the forensic analysts have been working all night to deliver a report on the latest body. 

They sent it out just after lunch, and since Kougami is the highest ranking person in the office at the moment, he figures that he ought to read it before the others get back, or before something else happens that distracts him. 

The screen on his phone remains dark. Which in itself is somehow distracting. 

He brings up the report on his computer and starts reading. It's comprehensive, and the first thing that catches his eye is the identity of the victim, a sixteen-year-old female who had been attending a private all-girls' school. A well-known elite all-girls' school in the city. One prized for its excellent students and high rate of good university placements. 

This meansthat Kougami and Akane will have to go to the school and start interviewing any of the students who knew her, as well as teachers she had. And the parents. But it's a boarding school, so maybe they can get away with not bothering the parents. 

He sighs, and continues reading, thinking in the back of his mind about how much he doesn't want to interview a bunch of teenagers. Teenagers are typically terrible witnesses for a variety of reasons, one of the most annoying being that they just don't like to talk to police. They're perpetually suspicious. And if they aren't suspicious, they're perpetually trying to find out more about why they're being questioned, and don't like taking “we can't tell you” for an answer. 

Also, Kougami isn't good with teenagers. 

Akane is slightly better, and given that she was top of her class in school, she might be able to relate to these girls on an academic level. Not that Kougami isn't smart, but his intelligence is more centered around deduction and observation and literature than anything else. 

He wonders if he can convince her that they need to conduct all the interviews together. It will take more time, but Akane is good at smoothing over Kougami's rough edges, and with a bunch of teenage students, that is probably something they will need. 

Conveniently, Akane appears a few minutes later. She heads straight for Kougami's desk, and before Kougami can ask her if they can do all the interviews together, Akane asks, “Have you heard from Ginoza?” 

Kougami stares at her. “No. I thought he was angry at me.” 

“I haven't heard from him, either,” Akane says. “He was annoyed at me, but not enough to stop talking to me completely, I don't think.” 

“Do you think something's wrong?” 

“I don't have a good feeling about this,” Akane admits, biting her lower lip. “But it could just be me being foolishly paranoid.” 

“Surely you have a reason,” Kougami says. 

“I do. I don't think I can tell you.” 

“Have you gone by his apartment?” 

“I think I'll wait for that,” Akane says. “Just in case I am being paranoid.” She sits on Kougami's desk. “What's going on?” 

“We have to interview teenagers,” Kougami says. “I was hoping we could partner up on those interviews.” 

Akane squints at the report on Kougami's computer screen. “Wouldn't it be more efficient to split up and interview half the student body each?” 

“It would,” Kougami hedges, “but that doesn't mean that we should do it that way.” 

Akane grins at him, knowingly. “You're afraid of those girls, aren't you.” 

“I'm not afraid of them,” Kougami says, frowning. 

“We can do it your way,” Akane says. “I'll just have to explain to the Chief that we'll be a while.” 

“We should take another person as well,” Kougami says. “Just in case.” 

“You really are afraid.” 

“I mean, in case something happens. And to observe. Not Kagari.” 

Akane laughs. “We'll take Sugo.” 

An hour later the three of them are set up in a spare classroom at the all-girls' academy. One by one, uniformed teenage girls come in to talk to them, displaying various levels of confusion, apathy, or suspicion towards the police. 

And then one of them starts crying. 

Akane hands her a tissue while Kougami sits there awkwardly, not sure what to say. This is why he wanted to interview everyone with Akane at his side. 

“It's okay,” Akane tells the girl, whose name is Mika. “We're here to help.” 

“I-it's just,” Mika says, “she was my f-friend. And I c-couldn't do anything.” 

“No one expects anything like that to happen,” Akane says. 

“But you can help us,” Kougami adds, because he really wants to get to the point. “If you know anything about her disappearance, or have seen anything suspicious.” 

Mika turns her eyes on him. “I-I don't know what's useful.” 

“Anything.” 

“I mean, I never saw or heard anything,” she says. “There are people who I think are weird. There's one girl...” She swallows. “She's popular, and she just seems...cold. I don't trust her. Her name is Rikako.” 

“It's a gut feeling?” Akane asks. 

“Yeah.” Mika sniffs. “I know that's not useful at all--” 

“It is!” Akane nods, fervently. “It's very useful. It's better than nothing at all. Sometimes our feelings can tell us a lot.” 

She finishes up the interview while Kougami shifts through his interview notes. He pauses a few pages in—they had interviewed a girl named Rikako about an hour ago, and it had been unremarkable. The only thing that caught Kougami's eye was that she seemed very well versed in literature and art. She quoted Shakespeare, which was quite unusual for anyone her age. 

But quoting Shakespeare does not a murderer make. 

Two hours later they walk out of the school. Sugo has the dazed look of someone whose brain has stopped working hours ago. Even Akane looks tired. 

“Maybe we can get Kagari to sift through all these notes,” Kougami suggests. 

“I don't know at all if that was useful,” Akane sighs. 

“We could interview the teachers next,” Sugo suggests. They'd talked to the head of the school, but not the teachers. 

“If a teacher was responsible, wouldn't more students have died?” Kougami asks. 

“I don't know,” Sugo says. 

All three of their phones start ringing before they can contemplate how a murderous teacher would act. Akane picks up hers, and her face goes pale. 

“What is it?” Kougami asks. 

“Another crime scene.”


	4. Artistic License

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore.

This crime scene is different. 

The first difference is that there is no body. 

The second difference is that the artwork is displayed in a section of woods in one of the central city parks. 

On seven of the trees, at about eye-level, is a painting of a screaming face plastered to the bark. All of the paintings are the same, and the red color of the artwork extends in angry swipes to include the tree above, below, and to the side of the canvas, making where the painting ends and the tree begins hard to distinguish. From far away, it looks like the trees are full of people, trapped and unable to escape their natural prison. 

And all of the paintings have a faintly metallic smell that makes Kougami's stomach churn. 

“It's blood,” Akane says. 

The forensics team sweeps in to get samples. They search but find nothing else—no body parts, no tools that could contain fingerprints, no strands of hair or other bits of stray DNA that might alert them to a possible culprit. 

“But whose?” Kougami mutters. 

They head back to the office after sealing off the area, and scour reports for any suspicious activity. They look at hospitals for incidences of blood or medical tools being stolen. And then Shion slips a forensics report in front of Kougami. 

“DNA match on the blood,” she says. 

Kougami's eyes scan the page, and he feels sick. 

DNA match: Ginoza Nobuchika. 

*

A white-hot pain slices through Ginoza's stomach, radiating outward, and he wants to arch off the table. He tries to scream. 

But his voice is stuck in his throat and his eyes are taped shut and he can't move. He thinks he's restrained in some way to the cold slab of metal underneath him. 

More pain, and feeling where there shouldn't be. He feels his organs shifting, and it's strange, he could never have imagined what having his insides moved around and touched would feel like, but he's feeling it now, and he wants to be sick. Someone is playing with his organs. He can hear the wet sounds, and he can feel everything. 

But he can't move and he can't do a thing about it. 

He hears the sound of someone giggling, and a strange plop. And then more pain, skin being sewn back together. His breath hitches. 

A warm, wet hand cups his cheek. 

This time when he screams, he can hear it. 

*

The first place they look is Ginoza's apartment. 

But it's empty, save for Dime, who whines at them because his owner hasn't been around to take care of him. Akane feeds him, gives him water, and then takes him on a lead out of the apartment. 

The next place they look is the flower shop, but it's closed, the owner apparently away. 

But they manage to get into the shop to search. There's no signs of anything suspicious going on in the shop. There's nothing going on in the shop. They leave it as they found it, locked up and empty. 

“Where else would he have gone?” Kougami asks. 

Akane looks away. “His father is buried in a cemetery on the edge of town. Sometimes he goes there to visit his grave.” 

“Then we should go there,” Kougami says. 

They drive to the cemetery, this time with Kagari in tow. Kagari asks a lot of questions, but he's mostly impressed by their murderer's actions. “This is really something,” he says. “They must've known that you both knew him. Otherwise, what are the chances that one of their victims, out of millions of possible victims, is someone you both know?” 

“How would they know that?” Kougami asks. 

Akane leads them through the cemetery, which is vast and empty. A place that, Kougami thinks, is easy to commit a crime in, even if it almost never happens. 

They stop at the grave stone of a man named Masaoka Tomomi. The name strikes Kougami as vaguely familiar, and when he asks about it, Akane says, “He died in the field. He was a city detective.” 

Which means Kougami must have heard about his death. “He doesn't have Ginoza's surname.” 

“Ginoza's parents were divorced,” Akane tells him. “The family situation is complicated. Ginoza's feelings towards his father are complicated. He took on the surname of his maternal grandmother.” 

“Oh.” 

“Hey, what's this?” 

They both turn to Kagari, who's pointing to a bit of dirt that's been disturbed. It looks like a skid mark from a shoe, displacing grass. Small, but when they're looking for anything, it stands out. 

“Call forensics,” Kougami says. 

It takes the forensics team twenty minutes to get there, and in that time Kougami and Akane both start thinking a bit too much. 

“He's not dead,” Akane says as she watches them rope off the area. “It wouldn't make sense. There's usually a body. He's not dead.” 

Ordinarily Kougami would say that, in all likelihood, she was wrong. But this is Ginoza on the other side of things, and he can't quite write him off as easily as he might a victim they don't know. 

“Were there any other markers in the blood?” Akane asks. “Hints at the material in the brush used to paint it onto the canvas? Where the canvas material came from?” 

“No,” Kougami says. “And Ginoza probably isn't being hidden in an all-girl's school. So there goes that lead.” 

“He was getting better,” Akane murmurs, almost too quiet for Kougami to hear. 

“From what?” he asks. 

Akane shakes her head. 

Kougami turns away from her and scans the cemetery. He tries to imagine Ginoza walking from the front gates to where he's standing, and then imagines a faceless person following him, grabbing him, and dragging him away. 

And then he thinks, if Ginoza is still alive, why? What's the next move? 

*

“This city is so interesting.” 

Ginoza forces his eyes open. 

Makishima sits in his field of vision, watching him. There's a tea cup and saucer perched on his lap, and a small grin on his face. 

“It's amazing what kind of people you can find in this place,” he continues. “Every kind of person. And it is surprisingly easy to bring them to action. All they need is a little push.” 

As the other man talks, Ginoza is making a silent analysis of his well-being. There's a throbbing ache coming from his lower abdomen. His throat is killing him. He feels far too exhausted to move, his limbs too heavy. It's hard to keep his eyes open. 

But he's alert enough to understand what's being said to him, which is a good start. 

“You haven't been lucid for quite some time,” Makishima tells him. “But I'm impressed. You only passed out from the pain after the surgery was finished.” 

Ginoza takes a shallow breath and tries to let it out with words, but the only thing he manages is a hissing sound. 

“I've been asked to look after you,” Makishima says. “In your condition, you can't be left alone.” 

“What do you want?” The words are only whispered, and it's painful to force them out. But he has to start talking. He has to get information. He can't just lie here and wait for something else to happen to him. 

“What do I want?” Makishima repeats, tilting his head to the side. “I want to know more.” 

“You...did this,” Ginoza chokes. 

“No,” Makishima says. “I merely provided the means. I'm not a murderer.” 

The statement is so absurd that Ginoza wants to laugh. 

“You don't believe me,” Makishima says, and Ginoza shivers. Makishima is too observant. “I may be responsible in some ways, but I've not taken a life. I'm simply here to satisfy my curiosity.” 

“For what?” 

“I want to know what makes this city and its people tick.” 

Ginoza closes his eyes. He hears the clink of tea cup and saucer being placed on the floor, and then a warm hand takes his chin. 

“Look at me.” 

Ginoza opens his eyes. Makishima is kneeling at his bedside now, face inches away, eyes scanning Ginoza's face. 

“I want you to know,” Makishima says, quietly, “that you are completely helpless. And that anything that happens is because I allowed it to happen.” 

He releases Ginoza's chin, roughly, and stands up. “The next chapter is beginning. I hope you appreciate the show.” 

There's something hard in Ginoza's pants pocket. He's still in the same clothes he was taken in. The thing digs into his hips, a pain so trivial compared to everything else that he almost hadn't acknowledged its existence. 

But he shifts, and feels the unyielding thing against his hip, and his heart starts thudding faster. 

It's his cellphone. 

*

Dime is subdued. But at least Dime has the luxury of not knowing how bad things really are. 

Akane invites Kougami over to her apartment after work. “Being alone is probably the last thing either of us needs,” she tells him, and he's inclined to agree. Alone, unable to move forward, he feels useless. With Akane, he can at least talk to someone. Analyze the situation. Maybe even make a breakthrough. 

It's very unlikely that the two of them will solve anything while drinking coffee in Akane's apartment, but even the slightest possibility makes Kougami feel a little calmer. 

“It's only blood,” Akane says. She's been saying this all day. Kougami has to wonder if she really thinks that's all it is. Probably not. Akane is smart. 

The coffee she's made is bitter. Akane is not a barista, but to be fair, neither is Kougami. The only person capable of making decent coffee in the office is Kagari, but Kagari is also the only person in the office capable of setting the coffee machine on fire, so they don't let him do it that often. 

Thinking about coffee only helps Kougami for a minute, and then his mind slides right back to Ginoza. Where he must be, if he's still alive. Or if he isn't, where his mutilated body will turn up. And what it will look like. 

Kougami puts his cup on the table with a loud thud. Akane startles and stares at him. 

“I couldn't protect Sasayama,” he says, “and now this.” 

“Neither is your fault,” Akane says. 

“I feel like I got him involved,” Kougami tells her. “I feel like none of this would have happened if I hadn't kept insisting that we get to know each other better.” 

Akane hits him in the arm, hard enough to make him flinch. “You're being ridiculous. I don't want to hear those words coming out of your mouth anymore.” 

Her cellphone buzzes, and they both stare at it. Akane picks it up and flicks through the screen, frowning. 

“You know that chatroom?” she asks. Kougami nods. “I got a private message from one of the users.” 

“Really?” 

“User 1984 sent me a message that says, “Detective Akane Tsunemori. I have some information that might be helpful to your investigation.” 

Kougami's eyes widen. “How do they know--?” 

“I don't know,” Akane says, looking disturbed. “I'm going to continue talking to them. We don't have a lead.” 

“You should let me do it,” Kougami says, reaching for the phone. “Tell them that your colleague will take over from here.” 

“I'm not going to do that,” Akane says as she types in a response. 

“Why not?” 

“I can handle this,” Akane tells him. “This person messaged me, which means that they trust me.” 

“It could be a trap.” 

“And if it is, I'll handle it,” Akane says. “I'm not reckless.” She gives him a knowing look. 

Kougami sighs and runs a hand over his face. “There's no stopping you, is there?” 

“No. Might as well relax and let me take care of this.” 

Kougami picks up his coffee again, and drains the cup in one go. 

*

Private Chatroom Log 23:43 27 September 2015 

jellyfish: why do you know about the case?   
1984: I'm an information broker. It's my job to know what's going on. I want to meet you.   
jellyfish: Why?   
1984: I want to know that my information is going straight to Detective Tsunemori.   
1984: Online, I can't be sure. And I prefer speaking to people face-to-face. 

*

The battery is almost gone, which means that he has one—at most two—chances to use the phone to help him. 

He hasn't been tied down. Makishima seems to be pretty confident about his inability to get away, and for now he's not wrong. Ginoza can hardly pick his head up off the cot, let alone move the rest of his body. He feels too warm, too heavy, and the sharp pain in his abdomen is disturbing, to put it mildly. And he keeps passing out, and he never knows how long it's for. 

But his head is something he can still use. 

He's looked at the phone, as discreetly as he can, when no one's around. It has very low battery, so he needs to act probably within the next twenty-four hours. There's no service in this area, which means that if he wants to maximize his chances of being found, he has to move. 

The problem is, thinking alone won't get him out of here. If he could leave through sheer willpower, he would, but his physical state seems to be imposing rules on what can and can't happen. 

He blacks out again, and when he wakes up, he's shivering. And his mind feels fuzzy. 

But whatever is going on, it also has the effect of making him feel a bit detached from his own body. Which should be worrying, but there's no one around, and he takes it as a sign that he should move now rather than later. 

He slides off the cot and onto the floor. It's a start. 

*

The next morning the unit is sent out to a mall. At the entrance a few officers have already stationed themselves, as have the forensics team. 

Kagari rushes forward to catch a glimpse of their newest problem, and his eyes widen. “Whoa. That's some seriously black market shit.” 

Kougami and Akane step up, and Akane gasps. Kougami grits his teeth. 

There's an outline of a body drawn in chalk on the ground, right in front of the mall doors. It looks like something from a movie. Within the outline are body parts. Not all of them, but enough to make Kougami's skin crawl. 

One kidney, a gallbladder, the spleen, the appendix, part of the liver, and tubes filled with blood to represent the arteries and veins. Kougami knows what all of these are because there are helpful labels stuck to each one, along with a price in yen. 

“Shit,” he hisses. 

And then the phone rings. 

Kougami almost doesn't pick it up, but he takes it out of his pocket because very few people have his number, and most of them are from work, so it has to be important. 

The ID on his screen reads Ginoza Nobuchika. 

He stares at it, and anger sweeps through him. Whoever did this to Ginoza is messing with him. He picks up the phone and snaps, “Who the hell are you and why are you doing this?” 

For a moment the only sound on the other line is erratic breathing. And then, softly, a voice says, “Shinya?” 

A familiar voice. Kougami's heart almost stops. “Ginoza? You're--” alive. He's alive, apparently. Even though a few seconds ago Kougami was certain that he was dead because there are so many organs on the ground in front of him, and he's pretty sure that they are Ginoza's. “Where are you?” 

“I—ah—by the docks. I think. I don't--” 

“Okay. Stay on. We're coming.” Kougami grabs Akane's arm and pulls her towards their car. “Just don't hang up.” 

“I'm so tired,” Ginoza murmurs. “I feel strange.” 

“You're fine,” Kougami says. “Trust me. You're fine.” 

“I--” He hears a thud and clatter, loud enough to make him wince.

“Ginoza?” he barks into the phone. “Ginoza, answer me! Ginoza!” But there's no answer. “Shit!” He lowers the phone, concentrates on driving as he speeds towards the docks. 

“What happened?” Akane asks. 

“That was Ginoza. He was on the phone. He's alive, Akane, but I don't know what happened.” 

Akane's eyes widen. “Does that mean that...I thought...” 

“Me too,” Kougami says. 

They don't speak after that, the tension in the air too thick to cut through. Anything that either of them could say is useless in this situation. 

The car swings into the middle of the wide expanse of space reserved for cargo. He and Akane jump out of the car, guns in hand, and head towards the water. 

There's a figure lying face-down by one of the large, sealed metal crates. Kougami rushes forward, knowing that if anyone else is around, Akane will be watching his back. As he gets closer he recognizes the long black hair, and sees a phone lying a few feet away. He skids to a halt in front of Ginoza, kneels down, and shakes him by the shoulder. 

“Ginoza, it's me. We're here.” 

Ginoza doesn't react. Kougami turns him onto his side, carefully. Ginoza's shirt is soaked with blood, some of it starting to pool on the ground beneath him. His skin feels clammy, it looks too pale. 

“I've called the medics,” Akane says.

“Okay.” Kougami brushes Ginoza's hair from his forehead. It's soaked with sweat. 

With a gasp, Ginoza opens his eyes and starts shivering. “K-Kougami.” 

“Gino,” Kougami says. “It's okay. You can relax. I'm here.” 

Surprisingly, Ginoza's breathing does ease. “Makishima,” he murmurs. “There's a man named Makishima.” 

“You can tell us what happened later,” Akane says. 

“And a girl. Sh-she--” The sound of sirens drowns out the rest of his words. 

The relief that sweeps through Kougami's body feels strong enough to knock him over, and the only reason he stays upright is because he's holding Ginoza close. The medics take Ginoza away, and Kougami follows them on shaky legs to the ambulance, where they put Ginoza on a stretcher. One of them swabs his arm with alcohol and readies an IV. 

As soon as Ginoza catches sight of the needle, he lurches away from the medic with a strangled yell, nearly falling off the stretcher. Kougami rushes forward to stop him, but Ginoza struggles against him, surprisingly strong. 

“Ginoza!” Kougami shouts. “They're here to help!” 

“Don't let him,” Ginoza gasps. “Don't let him—please. Please, Kougami, don't. Don't-” 

The words are cut off by a cry of pain, and Kougami sees the second medic removing a syringe from Ginoza's arm. Ginoza looks up at Kougami as his body goes slack, and it hurts Kougami to see the utter panic and fear in Ginoza's eyes. And then Ginoza's head falls back. 

“Sorry,” the medic says, as the other busies himself with the IV. “It'll be dangerous to him and to us if he struggles.” 

“I understand,” Kougami says. 

“We can't have you in here while we're driving to the hospital,” the medic adds. 

“Right. We'll follow you,” Kougami says, and he steps out of the ambulance and makes his way over to Akane, who's standing by the car. 

“Kougami?” she asks him. 

Kougami doesn't answer. He just ducks into the driver's seat and starts the car. 

*

They're put in a waiting room at the hospital and told to, well, wait. 

At least until Akane's phone rings and she stands up and walks away. She comes back a few minutes later, and Kougami gives her a questioning look. 

“The information broker,” Akane tells him. “Setting up a meeting.” 

“Akane,” Kougami says. “I don't think you need to do this.” 

“We still don't know who's behind any of these murders,” Akane points out. “It'll be useful. And I'll be fine, Kougami.” 

“When's the meeting?” 

“I'll tell you when it happens.” 

“Akane-” 

“Kougami.” The way she says it leaves nothing up to interpretation. It's the end of the conversation. 

So they keep waiting. And waiting. And eventually a nurse comes out and tells them that they've finished evaluating Ginoza, and tending to his wounds. 

“Does he have any family?” she asks. 

“No,” Akane answers, which makes Kougami feel relieved because he wouldn't have been able to. “His father died recently and his mother was already deceased. He had no siblings. But...we're friends.” 

“His emergency contact information lists an 'Akane Tsunemori.'” 

“That's me,” Akane says, showing her ID. Then she gestures to Kougami. “He's my colleague, but he's also Ginoza's friend. Can we see him?” 

“I'd like to tell you a little about his condition first,” the nurse says. “He's missing several organs...” 

“We know,” Kougami mutters. The nurse looks shocked, but Akane explains that they'd been called to a crime scene where the organs had been found and, within the next twenty-four hours, they will most likely be matched to Ginoza's DNA. 

“Okay,” the nurse says, taking a deep breath. “Malnutrition. Blood loss. Some internal bleeding and infection that we've taken care of, and we've gone over the surgical sites and properly re-sealed them.” 

Kougami shudders. “Is he awake?” 

“He's been asleep for the procedure and hasn't come around yet.” 

“Of course.” Kougami is already half out of his chair. 

“Can we see him?” Akane asks. 

“Yes. I would advise that you don't interview him until he's recovered more.” 

Akane and Kougami nod and follow the nurse into a nearby room. Ginoza lies on the bed, unconscious and pale, an IV attached to his arm and a breathing mask fitted over his face. 

“Shit,” Kougami hisses. Akane touches his arm. 

“He'll be okay,” the nurse says. 

Kougami isn't so sure. After the freak-out in the ambulance, he isn't sure that Ginoza's injuries are just restricted to physical. 

The nurse clears her throat and adds, “Miss Tsunemori, can I speak with you in private for a moment?”

“Of course.” Akane disappears from Kougami's side and for a few moments, he's left alone with Ginoza. 

Not that it does him much good. The sight of Ginoza makes him angry. He wants to find whoever did this and...well, he should want to bring them to justice. But there's a rawer, more animalistic part of him that wants to kill. 

Then Akane comes back. 

“What was that about?” he asks her. 

“Health things,” Akane says. 

“Secrets?” 

Akane looks sad. “I don't know anymore. If I'm being honest, Kougami, I'm not sure if Ginoza will be okay for a long time.” 

“Why do you say that?” Kougami asks, stunned. Akane is usually so optimistic. 

“I know him,” Akane says. “This can go one of two ways—Ginoza is very resilient in some ways, but he can also be very fragile. It'll be a fight. I'm not sure which part of him will win.” 

“We can help him,” Kougami says. 

Akane nods. “I've been trying. This messed everything up.” 

“Well, now you have me, right?” 

Akane allows herself a small smile. “Of course. We'll get through this by sheer force of will.” 

“I can't tell if you're teasing me or not.” 

Akane laughs. “Both.”


	5. No Rest for the Wicked

Tokyo Chatroom Log 00:27 28 September 2015 

passionplay: I heard there's organs being put on display now?   
gameboyk: WAHHH??? Where did you hear that?!   
passionplay: So it's true?   
gameboyk: I didn't say that.   
passionplay: You didn't say it was not true. 

*

Ginoza wakes up the next day. Which, incidentally, seems to Kougami like a good time to interview him. 

Kougami definitely hasn't stayed up all night worrying about Ginoza, and about the conversation he and Akane had, and about Akane. They're only allowed in one at a time, and Akane goes in first. She comes out, tells Kougami that she'll catch up with him later, and then it's Kougami's turn. 

Ginoza looks somewhat better than he had the day before. There's a little more color to his skin, but he still looks incredibly tired. He gives Kougami a wan smile and Kougami takes the chair at the bedside and sits down. 

“I'm sorry,” is the first thing out of his mouth. 

Ginoza's eyebrows draw together. “What?” 

“You didn't want to deal with the danger that Akane and I deal with, and then this happened,” Kougami says. “If I hadn't taken you out to dinner--” 

“It's not your fault,” Ginoza says. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” It sounds so much like a lie that Ginoza looks away. 

Kougami swallows. “Do you know who did it?” 

“A man called Makishima,” Ginoza says. “And a young woman with long black hair. I didn't get her name. Makishima...” He frowns. “Makishima isn't the one who injured me, but he is the one who took me.” 

“What?” 

“He told me that he gives people the means to do what they want,” Ginoza explains, “but that he isn't a killer. He's apparently a master of mental gymnastics if he believes that.” 

Kougami should probably be taking notes, but he doesn't want this to feel like an interrogation. He doesn't want Ginoza to feel like he only cares about work. 

“Any word on when you'll get released?” he asks. 

Ginoza frowns, and says, “A few days, probably. The doctors want me to stay with Tsunemori. They want someone to keep an eye on my—on me.” 

“You can stay with me if you want,” Kougami offers before he has time to think about what's coming out of his mouth. 

Ginoza raises an eyebrow. “Akane is my friend.” 

“And I can't be your friend?” 

“I...she knows me well,” Ginoza says, shifting a bit. His eyes dart from Kougami's face to the other side of the room. “To be honest, I would rather just go home. I don't want to impose on either of you. You're both busy.” 

“Not too busy to help a friend,” Kougami says. 

“You just met me,” Ginoza points out. “And the last time we talked, I told you that I'd rather not get involved with you.” 

“Yeah, you did,” Kougami agrees, “but I never agreed to that. And a relationship works two ways, right?” 

Ginoza looks mystified. “Yes, but...” 

“But what?” 

“I don't understand why you're bothering,” Ginoza says with a nervous little laugh. “There are better ways to spend your time, with better people.” 

Kougami stares at him. “I was worried sick about you, you know.” 

Ginoza's eyes widen. “Why?” 

It hits Kougami, then. “You don't have a lot of self-confidence, do you?” 

“I'm just used to people leaving,” Ginoza says, and then he looks away, quickly. “Sorry. I meant--” 

“You meant that,” Kougami says. “Why would you think that?” 

“I don't know,” Ginoza mutters. “But see? You don't need to be spending your time on my nonsense.” 

“It's not nonsense. It's just...I want to help.” And it's true. Perhaps this is what Akane has been hinting at the whole time. The fragility in Ginoza that's fighting with his resilience. The thing that can break him if he lets it. “And I think you should accept that. Because I'm really stubborn. Like Akane. Maybe worse than Akane.” 

His cellphone rings, and he curses, but the caller ID tells him that it's important. “Excuse me,” he says, and picks up. 

“I'm meeting the information broker,” Akane tells him. “Just thought you'd like to know.” 

“What? Akane, where are you? Wait a--” 

She hangs up on him. Kougami stares at the phone. 

“What's wrong?” Ginoza asks. 

“Nothing,” Kougami says. “But I need you to think very carefully about what's going to happen next. I know you didn't want to get involved with me, but you kind of are, after everything. And the thing is, Akane and I both want to help you, not make your life more difficult. And especially after this—we understand. Or we'll try to. So you have two options: to reject us and try to take on everything yourself, which from what I understand from Akane, hasn't worked out so well. Or you can accept our help and friendship.” 

“What did Akane tell you?” Ginoza asks. 

“Nothing,” Kougami says. “But I'm a detective. I have some intuition, you know.” 

Ginoza bites his lip. 

“You're scared,” Kougami says. 

“Yes,” Ginoza tells him. 

“Of this happening again?” Kougami asks. 

Ginoza shakes his head. “Just knowing that these are the kind of twisted people you and Akane deal with...” 

“Not all the time,” Kougami says. “Gino--” 

“Fine,” Ginoza says. “Fine. But I'm telling you, I'm fine.” 

“Fine,” Kougami says. “But you do realize you're trying to lie to a detective, right?” 

Ginoza narrows his eyes. And Kougami smiles at him. 

*

In an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town, Akane meets her information broker. 

She doesn't get a good look at him, which he says is for “security reasons.” His longer explanation is that, “People don't like people who know a lot of things, especially things they shouldn't. I don't want to put myself in any unnecessary danger. Especially since I'm meeting a detective. That's dangerous, in my line of work.” 

“I understand,” Akane says, while trying to get a sense of who he is under the hooded jacket. She sees a crisp white shirt, and white dress shoes, and a glimpse of white hair. “What should I call you? Since you know my name.” 

“Shogo.” 

“Right.” Akane has one hand resting on her gun. The other holds her cellphone ready. “What did you have to tell me?” 

She feels like Shogo is smiling at her, even though she can't see his face. It's in his voice. “The identity of your artistic killer, of course.” 

Akane tries not to look shocked. “How do you know such a thing?” 

“It's my job to know things,” Shogo says. “Well, I make it my job. It's interesting what you can find out about people if you're truly committed, and unfettered by other responsibilities. I love seeing the splendor of the human soul laid out in all of its possibilities.” 

“You don't think the police could have found the murderer,” Akane says. 

“I think given time, you would have,” Shogo says, “but those are not the only crimes you're investigating. I'm going to give you a name and a location. You can choose to act on it, or not. I can see why you wouldn't trust me, but at this point, I don't think you want any more bodies turning up.” 

“No, we don't,” Akane says, but something about what Shogo is telling her makes her uneasy. 

“The person you're looking for is Rikako Oryo,” Shogo tells her. Akane's eyes widen. “And the location is the basement of the maintenance building in the park nearest your police station.” 

“Thank you,” Akane says. Shogo nods, inclines his head, and walks away. 

Akane watches him disappear around a corner, then gets in her car as fast as she can. This whole area is too isolated to be safe, and she doesn't want to stay any longer than she has to. And, she wants to act on this information as quickly as possible. But the whole thing sends chills down her spine. 

They'd interviewed Rikako, and she'd seemed normal. A little cool, but not out of the ordinary. If she is the murderer, then she's been hiding in plane sight. 

And the atrocities she's committed haven't had any effect on her at all. 

On the drive back to the station, she calls Kougami. 

“How was Ginoza?” she asks him. 

“Surprisingly fine,” Kougami says, “though I think he's lying. How was the information broker?” 

Akane tells Kougami what she knows, and Kougami immediately wants to go to the park and finish this case once and for all. 

“I think you need to let your feelings settle,” Akane says, “and we need a plan. Or at least more people than just you and me. I'm going to talk to the Chief.” 

“And what I am supposed to do? There could be another body!” 

“And there might not be,” Akane reasons. “The killer—if it is Rikako—will probably be a bit more careful with their next move. Because Ginoza escaped.” 

“Ginoza mentioned a young woman,” Kougami tells her. 

Akane sighs. It's not looking good for Rikako. 

“If we want to do this right, we can't just go rushing in. Okay, Kougami?” 

She hears him take a deep breath on the other line. “Fine.” 

*

Two days. That's when Chief Kasei tells them to commence their operation. Two days because that's when the weekend starts, and since Rikako is still a student, she'll be most likely to be there on a day when there isn't school. The day before the operation, Ginoza is released from the hospital, and Kougami offers once again to let Ginoza stay with him. 

Akane agrees that it'll be good for Ginoza, and that he can also stay with her, but her apartment is smaller. She's been keeping Dime, which is a point in her favor, but she also has a late shift that evening, and Kougami doesn't. Ginoza spends a good ten minutes arguing that he can just go to his own apartment and save everyone the trouble, but eventually he's won over by Kougami's argument that it'll be better if he doesn't spend his first night home alone. 

So they go to Kougami's apartment, and Kougami cooks noodles, and Ginoza doesn't really eat them. He has a bag with several pill bottles, and he takes several pills with dinner, and Kougami ignores that because he's pretty sure that Ginoza wouldn't want him commenting on it. 

And then they go to bed. 

“You can sleep in my bed,” Kougami says. “I'll take the couch.” 

“I can take the couch.” 

“You can barely walk. Besides, it's probably bad for your injuries or something. You're recovering. Take the bed.” 

Grudgingly, Ginoza trudges into Kougami's room, and Kougami calls after him, “Let me know if you need anything!” 

Kougami curls up on the couch, which is slightly too small for him, and pulls a blanket over his body. He realizes that he'd much rather be in the bed with Ginoza. He has the sudden urge to go hug the other man, to give him some sort of comfort. He squashes it and closes his eyes. 

Ginoza is skittish. So instead, Kougami falls asleep. 

The sound of buzzing grows louder and louder until Kougami is wide awake, and it's not buzzing but screaming piercing its way into his head, echoing throughout the apartment. For a moment Kougami doesn't understand what's going on, whether or not it's the remnants of some awful dream. Then he remembers Ginoza, and stumbles towards his bedroom to get to him. 

Ginoza is sitting up, knees drawn to his chest, hunched over and hands clutching at his hair. Screaming. Kougami scrambles onto the bed and tries to put his arm around Ginoza, but Ginoza jerks away, crying, “Don't touch me!” 

“It's me,” Kougami says, kneeling in front of him, but Ginoza can't see him. Kougami doesn't know what to do, so he tries taking Ginoza's arms and pulling them away from his face. Ginoza tries to get away again, but Kougami holds him fast and repeats, “It's me. Kougami. It's me. It's me.” He repeats the words in the hope that they'll start to get through to Ginoza. 

He feels the moment when Ginoza stops trying to pull away and starts shaking. He looks up at Kougami, mouth open and eyes wide, pale and horrified at something Kougami can't see or touch. Then he focuses on Kougami's face, and crumbles, lurching forward. Kougami wraps his arms around Ginoza and holds him close, strokes his hair and trying to calm his shaking. The only sound in the room is Ginoza gasping, too fast. 

“What's wrong?” Kougami asks. 

“I'm fine,” Ginoza chokes out, and then laughs, a bit hysterically. 

“You're not fine,” Kougami says. 

“I know. I know. I know. But it's silly, right? It's over?” 

“It takes a while,” Kougami says. “When I saw my first body, I couldn't sleep for days. I thought I was being an idiot. Then the others told me it was fine. It's traumatic. It takes time to deal with that kind of stuff.” 

“I don't w-want that to happen to you or Akane,” Ginoza says into Kougami's chest. “Not her. Not you. It can't. You weren't here and I th-thought they'd taken you, too.” 

“Is that what your nightmare was about?” 

“Not at first,” Ginoza says. “Th-that's what it turned into. And then w-when I woke up, th-that's what I thought.” 

Kougami can hear Ginoza's teeth clicking against each other, he's shaking so hard. “What about the first part?” 

Ginoza shakes his head. 

“Then there's a solution to this, Gino. And this is why Akane and I didn't want you to be alone right now. I'll stay here.” 

“What?” 

“I'll sleep with you.” 

“You don't need to do this,” Ginoza tells him, raising his head and wiping at his eyes. “I'm b-being ridiculous.” 

“You're really not,” Kougami says. 

“Kougami--” 

“Gino.” Kougami shifts, and pulls Ginoza with him so that they're both laying down. Kougami reaches for the covers, pulls them over, and turns to Ginoza, who's staring at him in shock. “I think we'll both enjoy this.” 

“What?” He barely gets the word out. 

“You want to know that I'm safe,” Kougami says, “and I want you to feel better. We both win. So stop arguing. It's 3am. Let's sleep.” 

Kougami closes his eyes. A few seconds later he opens them again, to see that Ginoza is attempting to fall asleep. He smiles to himself. 

Throughout the next few hours he feels Ginoza start awake several times, and each time he asks Ginoza if he's okay. And each time Ginoza touches Kougami's arm, or hair, and then settles back down and mumbles that he's fine, and tells Kougami to go back to sleep. 

And curled up next to each other, they get through the night. 

*

Ginoza doesn't ask Kougami not to go to work, but Kougami can tell that he's thinking about it. Instead they don't mention it, and Kougami drops Ginoza off at his own apartment, where Akane had dropped Dime off earlier that day. When he leaves, he says, “See you later. And that's a promise.” Which is the closest they get to acknowledging what's really bothering Ginoza. 

Kougami and Akane drive in two separate cars to the maintenance building, which is in the middle of the park amongst a thicket of trees so that it doesn't ruin the experience for people who want to get away from everything not-nature. 

As they get out of the cars, unsure of what to expect, Kagari breaks the tension by asking, “Do you think she's cute?” 

“We already know what she looks like,” Akane says, edging towards the building. 

“That doesn't answer my question,” Kagari murmurs. 

“She's a murderer who likes to play with her victim's body parts,” Kougami says. 

“She's creative.” 

Kougami scoffs. But he appreciates the effect Kagari has on his anger—he's calming it down with his strange sense of humor. Or strange sense of what he finds attractive in women. 

Akane leads them to the edge of the building, where they wait for a moment before she gives them the signal to open the door. Sugo twists the handle—it's unlocked, probably because the building is still active. And they rush inside. 

There's no one there, so they make their way to the basement. Kagari whispers, “Do you ever get the feeling when we do these things that we're walking right into a trap?” 

“Stop talking,” Kougami says. 

The door to the basement is made of some sort of metal, and when Akane tries to open it, it's locked. They clamp on a device to the door's surface used specifically for getting into barricaded places. It doesn't escape Kougami's notice that the sign on the door reads “restricted access.” And the people who worked there probably never questioned it. It was the sort of thing you just assumed someone somewhere knew about. 

The door swings open with a bang, and they rush in, guns out, sprinting down the stairs and emerging into a large basement that resembles a lab in many ways. Plastic sheeting sectioning off bits of space, metal tables. And a girl in a white coat standing in the middle of it all, a puddle of dark liquid spreading by her feet. 

She spins around and sees the array of police pointing guns at her. And every single one of them recoils slightly when they see her. 

Her entire front glistens red with blood. Her hands, gloved, are soaked in it. Kougami realizes that the puddle by her feet is more blood, and there's a bucket a few feet away. A sheet on the table behind her has something on it, but from his vantage point he can't tell what it is. 

“You've interrupted by work,” the girl says, and she is just a girl. That's the worst part. She's a girl and now that she's gotten over the shock of the police turning up she's completely regained her composure. She actually looks more annoyed than anything. 

Rikako Oryo. Caught, quite literally, red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” Kagari cries out. 

“Good work,” Rikako says, “enabled by good people. To demonstrate the frailty and fleeting nature of human life and human bodies.” 

“You're, like, twelve,” Kagari remarks, sounding appropriately horrified. 

“I'm sixteen,” Rikako says. 

“I don't care how old you are,” Kougami snaps. “You're under arrest. Raise your hands in the air and come towards us, slowly.” 

Rikako smirks. “This is about that man, isn't it. What was his name? He knew you. The first of our victims that were involved with the police.” 

“Do what he said,” Akane orders. 

But Rikako ignores her. “He was the first that I didn't kill. And seeing him struggle under my knife, feeling every bit of pain, every slice, every pull on his organs as I gathered my materials, informed my art more than playing with dead bodies ever could. Vivisection is a revelation.” 

The words sink in, and Kougami feels sick. His hands tighten on his gun.

“The way he screamed...” 

“Don't,” Akane says, and Kougami isn't sure who she's talking to. 

Rikako laughs. “You want to shoot me, don't you? Go ahead. Imagine the distrust the public will have after hearing that the police shot a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl.” 

“You're a murderer,” Kougami growls. “You hurt him.” 

“Enough,” Akane barks, stepping forward and holstering her own gun. “Raise your hands and come here, or else we'll have to take you by force.” 

Rikako's smirk drops, and she raises her hands. She takes a step forward--

and her head explodes in a spray of blood, with a sound loud enough to leave everyone's ears ringing. 

Akane stares at the mess that used to be Rikako. Kougami stares too, and it takes him a moment to put together the fact that Rikako just got shot and that it wasn't by any of them. 

“Shit!” he cries, and he and Akane spring into action at the same time, running towards opposite ends of the basement. 

They sweep the area. They sweep the entire building. And somehow, they don't find anyone else. The other person is gone. Kagari finds a vent big enough for someone to crawl through that leads towards the ground floor, but there's no one there. Whoever shot Rikako has disappeared, seemingly into the air itself. 

They reconvene outside of the building, by which time forensics has arrived to sweep the place clean. 

“She knew something,” Akane says. “Someone didn't want her talking too much.” 

“Makishima,” Kougami says. Akane glances at him. He adds, “Makishima orchestrated Ginoza's kidnapping. He supplied Rikako with her materials. We need to find him.” 

“He'll be laying low,” Akane says.

“But he's out there,” Kougami says, “and he's the kind of person who likes to enable people in their twisted fantasies. He'll do something like this again.” 

Akane nods. “But for now, I think we can say that the city will have a break.” She sighs. “We should tell Ginoza what happened.” 

*

Over a cup of tea, Akane explains their failed capture of Rikako and admits that they might need to question Ginoza on the case for further investigation. Ginoza seems to only focus on one thing. 

“There was a gunman in there and you didn't notice him until he started shooting,” he says, staring at both of them. “Whether or not it was Makishima, you're dealing with something far too dangerous.” 

That's our job, Kougami wants to say, but he knows that Ginoza knows that already and that it won't help. And truth be told, Kougami is also disturbed by this. They should have noticed. It's their job to notice. Furthermore, it's their job to make sure that someone like that doesn't get to roam the city freely. 

Akane looks down at her tea. Kougami frowns at her. She looks up at Ginoza and says, “Rikako told us what she did to you.” 

Ginoza shudders, almost violently, and looks down. “I didn't want you to know that.” 

We pretty much guessed, anyway, Kougami thinks. He just hadn't known Ginoza was aware the whole time. 

“You can talk about it,” Akane says. 

“I'd rather not.” 

“Is that how your nightmare started, the other night?” Kougami asks. Ginoza nods. 

“I can understand,” Akane says, “if after all this you want to be alone for a while. I'm worried about you, but I'll respect your wishes if you say that you want to take some time to yourself.” 

Ginoza is silent for an almost worrying amount of time. 

“We can't guarantee our safety, or even yours,” Kougami admits. “I think you'd rather us be honest about that sort of thing. That's life. And yeah, maybe it's worse because of what Akane and I do and your association with us. But even so...” 

“I don't want to take time to myself,” Ginoza says, looking him in the eye. “I want to...deal with this. I think being alone would be worse.” Akane smiles, and even Kougami grins a little. “That said,” Ginoza continues, “I think tonight I do need to be alone. To process all this.” 

Kougami and Akane nod, and they both stand up. “We should be getting home anyway,” Akane says. “It's late, it's been a long day, we have the early shift tomorrow with Kagari and he's a handful.” 

“Right.” Ginoza leads them to the door. 

Kougami follows Akane into the hallway, but just before he crosses the threshold, Ginoza grabs Kougami by the arm and pulls him back. 

“Gino?” Kougami turns, and Ginoza moves forward at the same time and presses a small kiss to Kougami's lips. 

“I want to try this, too,” he murmurs before pulling away. 

Kougami nods. And with a soft smile, Ginoza closes the door. 

When Kougami turns back, Akane is grinning at him. But she doesn't say a word as they make their way to the car, nor as they start the drive. Both of them have a lot to think about. 

But even with Makishima on the loose and their best bet at information dead, Kougami feels surprisingly content. 

Because he's trying something. He's trying a relationship, and in the chaos of the city crime that he has to deal with, it's something that he has the feeling he needs.


	6. Part II: Every Rose Has a Thorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are into the second part of this fic! Enjoy!

Fifteen years ago, a plane crashed into the ocean a few miles off the coast of Japan. The plane was full of children on a trip between islands, and there were only two survivors. One of the survivors was a child, and the other was the pilot. 

The pilot had family involved in the government and the accident was attributed to a malfunction in the plane's structure. Several other accidents involving pilots happened in the years following, and each time, the pilots got off free. Rumors swirled about all of them having connections to the government in Tokyo, but none of these rumors got off the ground. The families of the victims were barely compensated beyond letters of apology, payment for the funerals, and a bit of extra money to try to keep them quiet. 

Ten years after the initial plane crash, the accidents were largely forgotten. They'd mostly taken place on small passenger aircraft on a small Japanese airline, and since most of the population hadn't been affected, most of the population forgot. 

Then the pilot from the first accident turned up dead. 

It wasn't reported in any major news outlet. Only a few fringe papers picked it up. Only a few people read the articles on the pilot's death. Most of them moved on. 

* 

“I want to offer my condolences for your loss.” 

The door to the tiny apartment opens slightly wider, revealing a little more of the young man behind it. “Who are you?” he asks. 

“Someone willing to help,” Makishima says. “I heard about your story, and I saw some posts you made online.” 

“Who are you?” the young man repeats. 

“My name is Makishima Shogo. I make things happen in this city. And I want to help you, Kamui Kirito.” 

Kamui opens the door all the way. “How can you help me?” 

Makishima grins at Kamui and steps through the door. “I have a wealth of resources at my disposal.” 

* 

Ginoza is awake, and it's three in the morning. He's also not in bed, where he should be. Instead, he's in the flower shop, re-arranging various displays and taking care of the flowers. He's brought Dime with him because it feels strange being in the flower shop in the middle of the night, alone. Dime only helps a little bit. 

The owner of the shop doesn't seem to mind Ginoza coming in at odd hours. There are things that need to be done, and Ginoza does them, even if it's when most people are asleep. Dime is asleep, too.

Ginoza can't sleep. Every time he sleeps he has nightmares. Sometimes, they're about Kougami and Akane getting hurt. Sometimes, he can feel himself being cut open and his organs being played with, and the worst part about those dreams are that they aren't so much dreams as memories. Sometimes he can't remember what he dreamed, but he wakes up with a feeling of terrible dread that makes him shake. 

He's cutting the thorns off a bunch of roses when there's a knock on the door. Ginoza drops the plant he was holding, not sure if he imagined it. But there's another knock, and Dime climbs to his feet and stares at the door. 

Slowly, Ginoza turns. He can see the outline of a person standing there, and he knows they can see him. So he feels he has no other choice but to see what they want. Still, he grabs a pair of sheers just in case. Dime follows him to the door. 

The person on the other side wears a puffy jacket with a hood over their head. Ginoza catches a glimpse of short brown hair. They don't look imposing, probably wouldn't be the least bit concerning in daylight. But there's no one else around. And Ginoza can't see their face. 

And then the person speaks. “Sorry to disturb you. I just saw that you were open and I was wondering if I could buy some flowers.” 

“We're not open,” Ginoza says. 

The person steps forward. “I have something in the morning and I really need flowers. I was hoping you could help.” 

“If you needed them, you should have come by when we were open,” Ginoza says. “I'm setting up for tomorrow.” 

“It is tomorrow,” the person says with a small smile. “I'll pay extra for them if you want. I just need roses. About a dozen.” 

Dime isn't growling at this person, which is a good sign. Ginoza sighs. He doesn't feel like arguing. Even though he can't sleep, he is tired. So he steps back, mutters, “Fine,” and lets the person into the store. 

The person looks around as Ginoza turns back to the roses, face mostly hidden still, though Ginoza thinks that they're a young man. He realizes that most of the roses still have thorns, and he points this out. 

“It's fine,” the young man says. “I don't mind.” 

“What are they for?” Ginoza asks. 

“A funeral.” 

Ginoza gathers a dozen roses, more than half of which still have thorns, into a bouquet. He hands it off to the young man, who gives him a stack of money in return. Ginoza stares at the bills. 

“I never gave you a price,” he says, but he knows that the money in his hand is too much. 

“Don't worry about it,” the young man says, and then he's out the door. 

Ginoza shifts the money in his hands and feels a sting. He drops the bills onto the counter. The top one is stained red. Ginoza turns his hands over. His left hand is bleeding from a small puncture wound. From the roses, he thinks. 

He finds a tissue and presses it to the wound, then organizes the money and puts it away. By the time he's done, he's so tired he feels like he might collapse. But he can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. 

Instead he takes Dime, locks up the shop, and goes to get coffee. 

His hand stings the whole day. 

*

Kougami is finishing the mundane task of filing reports from the previous week when all the phones in the office start ringing at once. 

Kagari jumps up from his desk. “Holy shit!” 

Akane runs in from the break room holding a cup of coffee. “What's going on?” 

And then Shion runs in. “There's been an explosion at Ueno train station. We need everyone on site. Akane, take Hinakawa. He'll retrieve the camera feeds from the past twenty-four hours. He's waiting in your car.” 

“Thanks,” Akane says, grabbing her coat. 

Everyone in the office runs to their respective cars. Kougami gets stuck driving Kagari, who can't stop speculating about what happened. 

“Do you think it's a terrorist attack?” he asks. “Or maybe a train crash? I bet some train was leaking oil or something and a spark caught it on fire. Or maybe--” 

“Kagari,” Kougami interrupts, “we shouldn't be guessing.” 

“Ah, right,” Kagari says, folding his arms over his chest. “That's not true detective work.” 

They arrive at the station a few minutes later, and it's in chaos. Kougami hates these situations. There are dazed people wandering in and out of the smoke spewing from the station entrance. Several medical personnel are already tending to injured civilians. A few journalists have started taking pictures, and a few more are trying to sneak past the police barricade. The fire brigade truck is there, but all of the firemen seem to have gone inside. 

He meets Akane by the station manager's office. Hinakawa shifts uncomfortably next to her as she asks the manager to let Hinakawa access the camera feeds. Kougami likes Hinakawa, even if he is extremely quiet and having a normal conversation with him is like pulling teeth. 

Hinakawa takes over the computers to access the camera feeds, and Akane says, “Let's go to the explosion site.” So they leave him there, and head into the station itself. 

They figure out that the center of the explosion is near the barriers leading to most of the trains. As they move closer, they spot blood on the floor, though any bodies and injured civilians have been moved. But the scene is still visceral. Beyond the blood staining the floor, the barriers have been completely destroyed, metal twisted and melted and still smoking. 

Kougami spots something red in the very center of where the barriers used to be. He moves forward, expecting to find more blood, but instead he sees dots of charred red scattered around the blast site. It doesn't look like blood anymore, but he doesn't understand what else it could be. He leans down to pick one up and feels it crunch in his hand. He turns to Akane, holding it out, and she takes it. 

“It's a rose petal,” she says, eyes wide. 

Burnt rose petals, scattered around the center of the blast. 

*

“Roses are a symbol of love, but there are two sides to love. Consider the thorn, which causes pain. It can make you bleed. Love can hurt.” 

Kamui twists the stem of the rose in his hands, ignoring the sting of the thorns. The one rose left, after the explosion. 

“You loved your country, and it betrayed you,” Makishima says. “That hurts.” 

“I want to send a message,” Kamui says. “I want them to know that I am angry. And that I haven't forgotten.” 

“This isn't a simple revenge,” Makishima says. “But people have died.” 

“People have died,” Kamui agrees, grimacing. He twists the stem so hard that it breaks. “I didn't want them to. I didn't enjoy that. More people don't have to die.” 

“But then would your message be as strong?” Makishima asks. “Blood for blood. Sacrifice for a higher cause. The results will be weak if you try to be safe.” 

Kamui drops the two halves of the stem on the floor. He crushes one underneath his shoe. 

“Do you feel better?” Makishima asks. 

“I do.” 

“Then let me tell you how to proceed. In order to hurt your government, you need to strike at the very heart of what they have to offer. Travel. Healthcare. Public Safety., and the government itself. Show people that their government cannot provide for them, cannot even protect itself.” 

Kamui stares at him. 

“You don't want people to get hurt,” Makishima continues, “but in all good causes people die. There must always be sacrifice.” 

Kamui nods, and turns away, looking at his hands. There's already blood on them. And isn't that what he wanted? Blood for blood? 

But there are people who will die who won't need to die. He doesn't want that. 

He turns back to Makishima. “I can do this, but we'll do it my way.” 

Makishima nods, and smiles. “As long as it's done.” 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 2:45 5 November 2015 

gameboyk: BOMB! Quick—theories! We can take bets on who's right!  
jellyfish: That's inappropriate.  
1984: Wouldn't the person who bet correctly be under suspicion?  
gameboyk: Oh come on, it doesn't take a criminal to figure out why someone would set off a bomb.  
jellyfish: …  
gameboyk: right?  
Ghost: hello  
1984: Welcome to our humble chatroom.  
gameboyk: Did you hear about the bomb? Was anyone there?  
Ghost: No.  
gameboyk: No what?  
passionplay: One of my bandmates had just left the station and was walking down the road.  
gameboyk: Ohhhh creepy. If they'd been a few seconds later, they would've been caught in it.  
1984: So many if's and would-have's and could-have's.  
1984: Nothing can replace the experience of actually being there.  
gameboyk: But it's still creepy. Kinda like Ghost's username.  
Ghost: …  
gameboyk: Whatever happened to hacker? He'd be all over this. 

*

There are many things Ginoza would rather be doing than going to see a psychiatrist, but Akane has been worried, and truth be told, he's been worried, too. He has medication, but after recent events, it hasn't been good enough. 

He feels slightly ashamed that things have gotten worse. 

Akane tells him that he shouldn't feel ashamed at all. He went through the sort of thing that breaks people. 

Ginoza doesn't like being broken. Then again, he figures that most people don't like being broken. 

He also doesn't like the idea of seeing a new psychiatrist. It took him long enough to get used to his old one, but that one retired. This psychiatrist is rather young. Or, he looks young. Perhaps he's older. They shake hands and the psychiatrist introduces himself as Mukojima Riku. 

They sit down, and Mukojima examines his file on Ginoza while Ginoza shifts in his seat, trying to stop his fingers from tapping on the chair. When Mukojima looks up, his eyes are narrowed. “You've been through a traumatic event recently.” 

“Yes,” Ginoza says, gripping the arms of his chair. Something about Mukojima's voice is familiar, but he can't place it. Maybe his brain is playing tricks on him. 

“A month ago,” Mukojima continues. “Why did you wait so long to seek help?” 

“I hoped I would be able to deal with it,” Ginoza says. “I was already on medication.” 

“Have you sought counseling?” 

“I don't think I'm ready to talk about it.” He hasn't even talked to Akane or Kougami about it in great detail. They know what happened, and they've both reminded him several times that they're there for him, but every time Ginoza even thinks about recounting events out loud and how they've made him feel, his throat closes up and he feels like he can't breathe. 

“Okay.” Mukojima makes notes. “I can prescribe you some medications, in addition to the one you're already taking. It'll take the edge off.” 

“What does that mean, exactly?” 

“You'll relax,” Mukojima says. “I can tell you're quite tense now. You'll feel better. You'll be able to sleep. You haven't been sleeping, have you?” He sounds genuinely concerned. 

Ginoza shakes his head. He's so tired, but he hasn't slept properly in so long, and trying to hide that from Akane and Kougami is impossible given how observant the two of them are. The only solution is to avoid them, and it isn't a good solution at all. 

“Here.” Mukojima hands him a slip of paper for a pill to take once daily. “If you don't feel better, come back to see me as soon as possible. I'll give you my number. Otherwise, I'd like to see you next month.” 

“Okay.” Ginoza takes the piece of paper and stands up. “Thank you.” 

He leaves the building with low expectations, and later, when he has the bottle of pills in his hand, he doesn't expect to go to sleep that night either. He takes one, and thinks about maybe going to the flower shop again that night. Some of the lilies need tending. 

Then it's morning, and he's tangled in blankets, and he realizes he hasn't moved from his bed all night. 

And he doesn't remember going to sleep. 

But somehow, he doesn't mind. 

* 

“Gino, sorry I can't meet for dinner today. But have you seen the news?” Kougami shifts the phone against his shoulder, arms full of tapes that he and Akane have to watch of train station footage. He'd expected Ginoza to call him as soon as he heard about the explosion, but Ginoza had remained strangely silent. 

“What?” 

Kougami dumps the tapes on the desk of the viewing room and nearly drops the phone, but manages to catch it at the last second. “The bomb at Ueno Station?” 

“Hold on.” He hears shuffling on the other end, then low sounds that he assumes is the television. “Oh.” 

“What were you doing yesterday?” Kougami asks. “It was all over the place.” 

“I was home,” Ginoza says. 

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you're okay.” 

“I'm fine,” Ginoza says, slowly, like he's trying that phrase out. It's different to how he usually says it, too quick and sharp and defensive. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Kougami sighs. “Just busy. We have to look at all the security footage from the twenty-four hours before the explosion, and the hour after.” 

“Good luck,” Ginoza says. 

“Thanks. I'll talk to you later.” 

After he hangs up, Kougami finds himself feeling oddly light about the conversation. He'd expected Ginoza to be more worried about the situation, about him and Akane, but he was oddly calm. 

He doesn't have much time to think about it, because Akane and Hinakawa come into the room with cups of coffee and firmly focused on the case. Akane plops into the chair next to Kougami, hands him a coffee, and says, “Let's see what we can find.” 

Kougami pops in the first tape and an image flickers on the large screen in front of them before focusing, becoming a black-and-white view of the barrier area of Ueno Station. 

That view becomes extremely familiar over the next few hours. 

They fast forward through the night and the first few hours of the early morning, when the train station is nearly empty and it's easy to pick out individual people. Most of them work at the station, and none of them leave anything behind. They discount, after a few more hours, the possibility of someone having left something in the station that wasn't spotted until the explosion. That leaves someone who dropped something right before the explosion happened. 

But either the person knew where the cameras were and managed to avoid them, or they've just gotten unlucky, because although Kougami's eyes are burning from watching the same footage over and over there's nothing there. Nothing to distinguish one faceless person from another. 

“They knew,” Akane says, slumping forward onto the desk. “They had to. Otherwise we would've seen them. They knew how to avoid the cameras.” 

Kougami runs his hand through his hair. He wants to pull it out. “But in order to know where the cameras are, wouldn't this person had to have looked for them? In which case, wouldn't he have been caught doing that on the cameras?” 

Which would mean a lot more hours of footage to comb through, taking hours that they don't have. 

“Actually,” Hinakawa starts, and they both turn to him. “They...uh...if they hacked into the security system they could see how many cameras the station has, where they are, and what they can and can't see.” 

“A hacker,” Akane murmurs. 

“I can check,” Hinakawa adds, “for evidence of hacking.” 

“And if there isn't?” Kougami asks. 

“Then it might be someone who works here,” Hinakawa says. “Who else would know about the security in that much detail?” 

“Look into it,” Akane says, standing up. “I have something to look into myself.” 

Kougami stares at her. “What are you going to do?” 

Akane smiles at him. “I have an information broker now.” 

*

Shion likes the afternoons when she can get off work and spend time with her girlfriend. It's not often, and they're both busy, but they're also both alike in that they're independent. They don't need to spend a lot of time with each other. Which is good, because they don't have a lot of free time. 

And the sex is fantastic. 

These afternoons usually end with the two of them in bed, lying naked on top of the covers, fingers idly tracing skin and lazy words that may or may not require a response. 

Except today, when Shion's words are less lazy and something from work sparks a question. Kagari had mentioned it in passing after talking to Hinakawa, and she asks Kunizuka, “Do you know any hackers?” 

Kunizuka, who'd been tracing circles into Shion's thigh, stops and turns on her side. “Why?” 

“Curious.” 

“Is this a work thing?” 

“Yes.” Shion sighs. “But I never bring work home, so you can forgive me for this one time, right?” 

“You've seemed more busy lately,” Kunizuka says. 

“Well, apparently large-scale crime is in fashion,” Shion tells her. “You've seen from that chat room. The newspapers. The amount of sleep I'm not getting, and I'm not even a detective. I feel for those guys.” 

“Are you suggesting that I know criminals?” 

“No. I'm suggesting that you know hackers.” 

Kunizuka smirks. “I might. But my scene is music, not tech nerdery.” 

“You're good at tech,” Shion says. “And I don't say that to just anyone.” 

“Aww, I've been blessed by the tech goddess,” Kunizuka says with a smile. “I'm touched.” 

“So.” Shion nudges her. “Do you?” 

Kunizuka thinks for a moment. “There was a group of strange computer people,” she says. “And when I say strange, I don't mean nerdy. I mean really...alternative. Which, coming from me, is saying something. They were into things like combining the human body with the capabilities of a computer.” 

“Robots?” 

“A bit,” Kunizuka says, “but more like...androids. I didn't know there was a difference, but one of them said there was. Anyway, I think they went more underground. They disappeared a while ago.” 

“What a shame,” Shion says. “They sound like fun.” 

“They were mostly guys,” Kunizuka says, “and they really weren't. But I could ask around.” She pulls herself up and on top of Shion, pinning her by the shoulders. Shion grins up at her. 

“What's this?” 

“Every time you talk about work, you owe me,” Kunizuka says. 

“Wait, you talk about music all the time.” 

“You like it.” She presses a kiss to Shion's lips and murmurs, “round two?” 

*

On the way home from work, Ginoza passes by a news agent and takes a look at the newspapers lining the window. 

His blood runs cold. 

The front page photograph is a full-color spread of Ueno station in the aftermath of the bombing. And scattered amidst the debris are roses. Red roses.


	7. The Second Attack

“I'm looking for a hacker that would be willing to do some...illegal work.” 

It's a stretch, but Akane figures that she might as well go for it. 

Shogo smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Are you thinking of breaking the law, detective?” 

“No,” Akane says. Shogo is friendly, charming even, but something about him puts her on edge. This time they've met in a small coffee shop on the outskirts of town, and no one else is there. It's just him, her, and the barista. 

The barista isn't very interested in them. 

“There is a someone whose name has come up if you need to break into most networks,” Shogo tells her. “You've seen him in the chatrooms. His real name is a mystery, but he's known simply as Hacker.” 

Akane smiles wide. She has something else for Hinakawa to track. “Thank you. This is really helpful.” 

“I can't very well refuse an officer of the law, can I?” 

“And what about the bomber?” Akane adds. “Do you know anything about that?” 

“I could find out,” Shogo says. “At the moment I'm as in the dark as you, unfortunately.” 

“I guess that's asking for too much,” Akane says, standing up. “Thank you for meeting me. I'm sure I'll end up calling you again.” 

“Any time,” Shogo says. 

As Akane walks away from the coffee shop towards her car, she feels lighter. More relaxed. 

She has a name, even if it's a fake one. Maybe, for once, they'll be able to catch this criminal before any more crimes are committed. 

* 

“Kougami's boyfriend is sitting in the lobby,” Kagari tells Shion. “He's been there for, like, half an hour.” 

“Kougami went to meet Akane and Hinakawa at the station,” Shion says. “You go talk to him.” 

“Why don't you?” 

“Because I'll say something Kougami won't like,” Shion says. “Besides, you've met him before, haven't you? And I haven't.” 

“I met him during a shootout!” 

Shion hums. 

Kagari sighs and makes his way out of the office and into the lobby. Ginoza looks exhausted, and he doesn't even look at Kagari when he plops into the seat next to him. 

“Gino-san!” Kagari cries, making the other man jump. “What are you doing here?” 

Ginoza stares at Kagari for a moment without recognition. Then, he seems to remember who Kagari is and where they met, because he pales. 

“I told Shion it wouldn't be a good idea for me to talk to you,” Kagari says, “but Shion insisted that because we know each other I should. But I bet it brings up bad memories, right?” 

“Um.” 

“Even though I'm the one who got shot,” Kagari adds, rubbing his arm. “But that's healed nicely. Anyway, what's up? If you're looking for Kougami, he's probably not gonna be back for a while.” 

“I was,” Ginoza says, haltingly. “I wanted to ask him something. About the bombing.” 

“You can ask me.” 

The look Ginoza gives him seems to be asking, “Can I?” He doesn't bother hiding the skepticism. But still, he ends up saying, “The train station bomb...there were roses?” 

“Yeah, it was weird,” Kagari says. “At least, I've never seen anything like it. A lot of the petals were burned. They were all dried out. No stems.” 

“I sell roses.” 

Kagari frowns. “And?” 

“Did you...where did they come from?” 

“We sent the few non-destroyed petals to labs,” Kagari says, “but I mean, roses come from a lot of places. They found the region they were grown in and not much else. Don't tell me you're worried you sold roses to a bomber.” 

Ginoza looks away, and Kagari feels like there's something off about him. Maybe it's the exhaustion, or the fact that he seems lost, sitting in the police station on his own, waiting to talk to Kougami about roses. 

“I don't know,” Ginoza says, finally. He stands up. “I don't think I need to wait for Kougami, after all. He needs to concentrate on the case.” 

“I'll tell him you said hi?” Kagari asks, standing up as well. 

Ginoza starts towards the door. “No, you don't need to do that.” 

Kagari watches him go, and bites his lip, torn between leaving the matter alone and telling Kougami that he really needs to talk to his boyfriend. 

When he goes back into the office, he decides to leave it alone. 

*

Shion catches Akane when she, Kougami, and Hinakawa return sometime after dark. “I have a girlfriend,” she says, “who used to know a group of people heavily involved in computer tech that frequented the music scene. She says she's looking into it.” 

“Akane has a name,” Kougami says. 

Shion pouts. “You beat me to it.” 

“No, that's useful,” Akane says. “I only have a username. If Hinakawa can't figure out who it is on the computer, we have a possible real-life source to look for in this group.” 

“Wait,” Shion turns to Hinakawa, “you're not involved in any of those things?” 

Hinakawa shakes his head. 

“But he could be,” Kougami says, and Hinakawa's eyes widen. “He'd blend in pretty well, probably.” 

“I-I'm not a field officer,” Hinakawa mutters. 

“We'll figure something out,” Akane says.

“By the way,” Shion adds, “Kougami, your boyfriend was here earlier.” 

Kougami frowns. “Really? He didn't tell me.” 

“Kagari talked to him and he left,” Shion says. “I think he scared him away.” 

“He never sent me anything,” Kougami says, taking out his phone to double check. But there's nothing there. “He wanted to see me? Or someone else?” 

“You,” Shion says. “You'll have to ask Kagari. He went home.” 

“That bastard,” Kougami mutters. 

“We should, too,” Akane says. “We can't solve a case on no sleep.” 

“I've had coffee,” Kougami says. “There's more coffee around. The coffee place across the street is open 24/7.” 

Akane glares at him. 

“Go, go,” Shion says. “All of you. Because if you're still here, I feel guilty about going home.” 

*

There's a crowd outside of Ikebukuro Station. 

As Ginoza moves closer, he can hear the loud shriek of a fire alarm from inside. Dime's leash is wrapped around his wrist, and Dime himself is whining, restless and uneasy by Ginoza's side. 

He'd planned to take Dime out into the suburbs for a walk and some fresh air. Not just for Dime—his head feels full of fog, and he can sleep, but he feels like he needs some of that clarity. Everything feels confusing, and he's not sure why. 

But walks with Dime have long been his solution to untangling his thoughts. 

The crowd of people outside of the station is growing. Dime pulls on the leash, towards the station, and Ginoza allows himself to be dragged forward. The crowd seems willing to part for Dime. Maybe, because Dime is so large, they think he's a police dog. 

There's a fire truck parked right outside the entrance, and a police car next to it. No barricade has been set up, though station workers stand by the entrance to make sure that no one goes inside. The result is that the crowd is right up against the entrance, stopped only by a small group of people. 

Someone asks if there's actually a fire, and one of the station attendants says that they don't think so, but that the law requires that the station remain empty until firefighters clear the area. 

Ginoza ends up at the front of the crowd, Dime straining to get past the station attendants. The one closest looks at Dime and says, “There's nothing in there.” 

Dime barks. Ginoza bends over and murmurs, “What's wrong, Dime?” 

The words are barely out when a blast loud enough to make Ginoza's ears ring knocks him back. There's a flash, a wave of heat, and pain. Someone's fallen on top of him. Dime's barking cuts through the noise of people screaming, of the alarm, of distant shouting and sirens. 

We're not getting to the countryside today, Ginoza thinks. He feels dizzy, the air turning acrid and heavy from smoke. The smoke isn't good for him. He's told Kougami that so many times. Kougami isn't here, but then what's causing the smoke? It's making him light-headed, his breath catching. He tries to raise his head. 

His body gives out. 

*

Kougami had expected to spend the day researching. Instead, he's barely started looking through files when several phones ring at once, and the once quiet office fills with noise. 

Akane ducks down on her desk, taking one of the calls. More phones ring. Kougami things about picking one up. 

Shion rushes into the office at the same time that Akane ends her call. 

“The train station,” Shion says. 

“Stations,” Akane says. “More than one. We've been dispatched to Shibuya station.” 

They pile into a police car, Kougami driving. Akane types on her phone, apparently handling an onslaught of messages. Kagari is in the back seat, Sugo next to him, and there are other cars following. Kougami turns on the lights and sirens, and the roads open up for him. 

“You said stations?” he asks. 

Akane sighs. “Three stations reported fire alarms at the same time. Fire brigades were sent out to each and the stations were evacuated. Trains were re-routed. Ten minutes after that, all three experienced explosions in the ticket halls.” 

Kougami winces. 

“So the explosion the other day was a warm-up?” Kagari asks. 

Kougami hadn't thought about it that way, but now that it's said out loud... “Maybe. But we still have no clue who's behind this.” 

“It can't just be one person,” Kagari says. “Three stations? That seems like a group.” 

“A terrorist group,” Akane murmurs. 

As they approach the station, traffic comes to a standstill, and even the police car can't create space when there's nowhere for the other cars to move. “I think we'll have to get out.” 

He pulls the car onto the sidewalk, so that once traffic clears they won't just be parked in the middle of the road, and everyone gets out and starts sprinting towards the station. 

“You don't think there's another bomb waiting for the police to show up, do you?” Kagari asks. 

“Don't say things like that!” Akane cries. 

In front of Shibuya station there is chaos. People on the ground being treated by medical personnel, crowds being held back, firefighters running in and out of the station, smoke still streaming from inside the building. 

It's overwhelming. 

Kougami leads them to the station master. “Security camera footage,” he says. The station master looks to be in shock, but he points them inside the building. 

Kougami starts forward, but Akane places her hand on his arm. “Wait. The building has to be cleared.” 

“What if someone's already got to the footage?” Kougami asks. 

“No one--” 

A distant rumble cuts off her words, the ground shaking underneath their feet. It's over quickly, but the shouting from inside the building grows louder. 

One of the fire fighters emerges, covered in black dust. “Another bomb,” he gasps, and then pulls out his radio to call for back-up. “We need to search the station for undetonated explosives.” 

Kougami feels useless. He shifts on the threshold of the station. If there's a third explosion, it could very well destroy any footage they have. If it hasn't already been destroyed. 

And as the police, their job here is to contain and investigate. The situation is as contained as it's going to get. 

“I'll be right back,” Kougami says, pulling away from Akane and heading into the building. 

“Wait!” Kagari grabs his arm this time. “I'm going with you.” 

Kougami doesn't have time to argue. He'd rather go alone, but then again, if he's going to end up carrying stuff, it might be useful to have a helping hand. 

The usually bright and welcoming ticket hall is dark, full of shadows. Some of them move. Voices echo, giving orders and calling for assistance. Kougami decides that they should stay close to the walls and feel their way around. It's uncomfortably hot, and he wonders just how much of the fire, if any, the firefighters have managed to extinguish. 

His nerves are on edge, and Kagari is breathing hard behind him, so he decides to break their silence. “I heard Gino came to the office?” 

A pause, and then Kagari says, “Yeah. Kinda forgot about that because, you know, we've been bombed and we're in a burning building with possibly more bombs.” 

“You didn't need to come with me,” Kougami says, and it occurs to him that Kagari is scared. 

“Someone has to look after you,” Kagari says, “and I didn't want to send Akane-chan in here. We can't lose her. She's much better for the department than you.” 

“Thanks,” Kougami mutters, though he does think that it's true. They walk in silence for a few seconds. Kougami's hand hits what feels like a door, and he uses the flashlight attached to his belt to try and see what it is. It turns out to be a bathroom. He moves on. 

“Gino-san was acting pretty weird, actually,” Kagari says after they pass a second bathroom. “I mean, he asked about the roses. I think he thought he might've sold roses to the bomber because he works in a flower shop.” 

“What?” Kougami almost stops short in shock. “Shion didn't mention that.” 

“It's not true,” Kagari says, stifling a cough. 

“But why would he think that? Gino's a reasonable person.” 

“He's probably been stressed,” Kagari says. “He did get cut open a month ago.” 

Kougami winces. 

“And you and Akane are hella busy,” Kagari adds. “I mean, I know you both wanted this whole relationship thing to work but I'm pretty sure starting one when you have no time is not the way to do it.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Shion has a lot to say about the amount of dates you haven't been on,” Kagari says. 

“I'm trying not to rush him,” Kougami says, not quite believing that he's talking about relationships with Kagari, of all people. “And I thought he'd need space.” 

“How much space, exactly?” 

“Why don't you tell me, since you seem to know everything?” 

“You probably gave him too much space. Has he called you since then?” 

“No.” 

“And you haven't called him? You should call him later. He's probably upset about this, too.” 

Kougami grits his teeth, and his hand comes up against another door. He shines his flashlight on the surface. “This is it.” 

“Is it locked?” Kagari asks. 

Kougami tries the handle, and the door swings open. “No. They probably wouldn't have if they left in a hurry. Given the recent explosion at Ueno, they were probably a little more cautious.” 

“That means anyone could've got in,” Kagari says. 

Kougami leads the way inside. It does look like the offices were abandoned quickly, coffees and half-eaten lunches still on desks, computers still logged in. Not very secure, but given what's just happened, Kougami can't really blame them for wanting to get out fast. 

Through another door is the security office, complete with screens linked to the cameras scattered around the station. Most of them are down, but a few are still working, and Kougami catches glimpses of firefighters moving around in the darkness. 

“The tapes?” Kagari asks. His hand is already hovering over one of the monitors, ready to start ejecting. 

“Yeah,” Kougami says. 

They spend the next few minutes gathering tapes, trying to be quick about it. Kagari starts coughing, and Kougami's eyes are watering from the smoke, though it hasn't affected his breathing quite yet. When they finish, Kougami leads them out, trailing the wall again like he did on the way in. The same configuration of doors tells him that he's going the right way, and soon the light from outside the ticket hall begins to permeate the smoke. 

He's relieved to step outside, cool air hitting his face. It feels wonderful to breathe something that isn't mostly smoke, and he walks over to where Akane and Sugo are standing with the station manager. “We should take these back to the station,” he says. 

“You go,” Akane tells him. Her face is pinched with worry. “You've already been exposed to enough smoke as it is. You probably need to rest. Maybe stop by the hospital.” 

“We're fine,” Kougami says, but Kagari has another cough attack. “Well, I'm fine.” 

Akane glares at him. “The bomb squad arrived a few minutes ago. I can't believe you didn't wait. What if another bomb had exploded close to you?” 

“You didn't stop me,” Kougami says. 

Akane sighs. “I couldn't argue with you in front of the station master. Can you go back to the office? We're fine here, now. And you have to review those tapes.” 

“We're stuck with that, too?” Kagari chokes out between coughs. 

“Did you find out where the second bomb went off?” Kougami asks. 

“The area just outside of the station,” Akane says. “Several tracks were destroyed.” 

“Any news from the other stations?” 

“Not yet,” Akane says. “They must have their hands full. And so do you,” she gestures to the tapes. “Please go.” 

“Fine. But call us if you need back-up.” 

Akane nods, and Kougami and Kagari head back to the car. 

A bit of the traffic has cleared away, so they don't have a hard time pulling off the side-walk and turning around. Kagari hasn't really stopped coughing, and Kougami asks him if he wants to visit the hospital. 

“I should have a tolerance,” Kagari mumbles. “I spend enough time around you.” 

“We'll drop this off, then get you checked,” Kougami says. “Hinakawa can start looking at them.” 

The station is empty save for Shion, Hinakawa, and the very concerned receptionist at the front desk. Kougami leaves the tapes with Hinakawa, tells him to rope Shion into his viewing party if he finds it necessary, and heads back outside, where Kagari is waiting in the car. 

“Should we really go to the hospital?” Kagari asks. “I bet they're all packed.” 

Kougami ignores him and starts the car. 

* 

The ground shakes, rattling Ginoza into consciousness. 

People are walking above him, and Dime is nudging his face with his nose. Ginoza sits up, everything spins, and his body aches. A sharper pain in his hand makes him look down. He's clutching Dime's leash so hard that there's blood dripping from his hand. 

Someone touches his shoulder and says something to him. Ginoza shakes his head, stands up, swaying. Dime pushes against his legs, and then pulls, causing Ginoza to stumble forward. Another hand comes to rest on his arm, a bit more insistent, but Ginoza pulls away. Dime clearly wants to go home. 

He would say that he's fine, just to stop these people from trying to look after him, but his throat seems to be stuck. 

Instead, he follows Dime. Or maybe Dime is following him. He walks down streets by muscle memory, and at some point ends up back in his apartment, sitting on the couch with Dime by his feet. Dazed, he unclips Dime from his leash and leaves the blood-stained thing on the coffee table. 

He lies on the couch, closing his eyes. Just as he's about to drift off to sleep, a loud bang startles him awake. He bolts up, clutching the edge of the couch, ready to run. But Dime is still on the floor, curled up and calm like nothing happened. And maybe it didn't. 

But Ginoza feels like the building is crumbling around him. 

He lowers himself to the floor, hoping that it'll feel more solid, and draws his knees up to his chest, taking deep breaths. He feels unmoored, like a boat being tossed around in the middle of a storm. Or like a person without a life-jacket fallen overboard and at the mercy of the ocean currents and waves. Or maybe like that same boat, being smashed to pieces. 

His fingers dig into his sweater. He's solid. He is solid. He should be solid. 

He doesn't know.


	8. A Different Kind of Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: Ginoza's psychiatrist is not a good person. This will come into play later but it kind of starts here so if you're wondering about it, yeah, that's what's happening.

The hospitals are actually empty. 

“It's because the fire alarms went off before the bombs,” Kougami says, as a nurse listens to Kagari's breathing through a stethoscope. “Isn't that weird?” 

“It's good,” the nurse says, not looking up. “Stop talking.” 

Kagari takes a few more deep breaths, some of which turn into coughs, before the nurse pulls away. “I'm going to see if the x-ray machine is free. I want to check your lungs in more detail. You've definitely inhaled too much smoke.” She walks away. 

“It is weird,” Kagari says. “But I guess we should be happy? It would've been a lot worse. I mean, three major stations full of people. They're never empty. And then two bombs go off.” He cringes. 

“Transportation is gonna be wrecked for awhile,” Kougami says. “That'll be a pain for a lot of people, especially if the train tracks themselves were damaged. But I do wonder...” 

“Huh?” 

“Why the fire alarm went off,” Kougami says. “If this person is sending a message, they don't want to send it by hurting people.” 

“Um, I'm in the hospital,” Kagari points out. 

“You don't count,” Kougami says. Kagari makes a face. 

The nurse returns, tells Kagari that the x-ray machine is free, and Kougami watches as he follows her out of the room. It gives him time to check his phone. 

There are no messages. He decides to send one to Ginoza. “Are you alright? You weren't at the train stations, were you?” 

No answer. He considers calling, but he isn't sure when Kagari is going to come back. But he does want to see Ginoza. Because Kagari is right—he probably has been giving Ginoza too much space. He wonders if Ginoza resents him for that. 

Kagari comes back, and he chats to the nurse for a bit about the condition of his lungs, which isn't appalling but is definitely worrisome. He's put on bed rest for the rest of the week, and as they walk out Kagari asks Kougami if “bed rest” can include reviewing footage with Hinakawa. 

“Why would you want to do that?” Kougami asks. 

“It's better than being at home.” 

“I'm supposed to be taking you home.” 

Kagari looks at him. “Technically, you should've gotten checked out, too.” 

“You're pushing your luck,” Kougami says. 

Kagari sighs, leans back against the seat. “Do whatever you want. I am at your mercy.” 

Because Kougami is a merciful boss, he drops Kagari off at the precinct. Hinakawa has locked himself in one of the rooms, alone, and Kagari sits next to him and says, “We'll order pizza.” Hinakawa looks shocked, but Kougami reassures him it'll be fine. 

“Just don't let Kagari leave. He's not supposed to be doing anything that involves standing.” 

Hinakawa nods, then looks at Kagari and back at the screen. “I'm afraid this isn't very interesting,” he mutters. 

“More interesting than my apartment,” Kagari says. 

Kougami leaves them to it and steps outside to call Akane. “Need help?” 

“Aren't you supposed to be watching those videos?” 

“I didn't think you were serious. I gave that job to Kagari and Hinakawa.” 

Akane sighs. “I don't need help. They haven't found anything.” 

“Then shouldn't you come back to the office?” 

“I would, if I had a reason to,” Akane says. “If anyone finds anything I'd rather be here. Besides, the traffic is terrible. People are starting to panic.” She goes quiet for a moment. Then says, “Maybe you should check on Ginoza.” 

“In the middle of this?” Kougami asks. “There can't be nothing for me to do.” 

“Yes, in the middle of this,” Akane says. “He's probably worried.” 

“I sent him a message.” 

“And?” 

“He didn't answer.” 

Akane makes a frustrated noise. “I don't like this.” 

“Maybe later I can visit him,” Kougami says. “But I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he just hasn't checked.” 

*

This is miserable. 

Ginoza holds his own hair back, hunched over the toilet, retching. He'd tried to eat, only for his body to violently reject the food. This, after everything had stopped feeling like it was about to fall apart around him. He'd thought the food would help. 

He's shaking, and sick, and he wants someone with him. Someone to tell him that everything will be fine. Someone to hold him. 

He rests his head against the cool surface of the toilet seat, too tired to hold himself up. It's as if someone has pulled the plug on a drain, letting all the energy leave his body. He wonders if he should call his new psychiatrist. This is probably something they need to know about. 

He reaches for his phone, takes it out of his pocket. There's a message from Kougami, asking him if he's okay, and he wants to cry. Kougami is probably dealing with so much right now, given what happened at the train station. He can't burden him. 

So he texts back, “I'm fine. What's going on?” 

And then finds the number for Mukojima. He hovers over it, debating. Then he dials the number. 

It rings and rings, and then finally, an answer. “Hello?” 

“Hello.” Ginoza swallows, clears his throat, trying to make his voice less hoarse. “It's...Ginoza Nobuchika. I...I think I need help.” 

A pause, and then Mukojima says, “What's going on?” 

“I was at the train station and it...there was a bomb. I don't think it helped. But I've been feeling like everything is falling apart.” 

“Even with the medication?” 

“Yes.” 

“You might need a stronger dose,” Mukojima tells him. “I can call in a prescription to your local pharmacist. Have you gone to the hospital?” 

“What?” 

“You were at the train station.” 

“I was outside,” Ginoza tells him. “I'm fine. I should be fine. I wasn't hurt. Why am I feeling this way?” 

“What did you see?” Mukojima asks. 

“Nothing,” Ginoza says. “The explosion. I don't know. It feels like it wasn't me, there. I think I'm worried about...the people I care about. They're working on this.” 

“They're working on the trains?” 

“They're police.” 

“Oh.” Mukojima sucks in a deep breath. “I see.” There's a moment of silence. “Okay. Perhaps avoiding talking about the details of their work with them would be best.” 

“I haven't seen them in a while,” Ginoza says. “I think I might be afraid to.” 

“It's to be expected,” Mukojima tells him. “Seeing them would bring a physical reminder of what they do. And perhaps you need the separation.” 

“I--” 

“I'm going to call in a new prescription. Please let me know if you have any problems. Okay?” 

Ginoza takes a deep breath. “Okay.” 

“They should be ready to pick up within the hour,” Mukojima adds. 

“Okay.” 

“I'm wishing you the best.” And he hangs up. 

“Okay,” Ginoza says to the empty bathroom. 

*

The phone rings long enough that Kougami thinks no one will pick up, but then he hears Ginoza on the other line say, “Hello.” 

He sounds hoarse. Kougami frowns. He's on the way back to the train station, stuck in traffic. And he doesn't see himself getting out of it anytime soon. It's given him time to think. Maybe he should see Ginoza. Maybe Akane is right. Ginoza is probably worried. 

“Are you okay? You never answered my message.” 

An intake of breath. “I texted you. I said I was fine. Why wouldn't I be?” 

Kougami must have missed it. And he doesn't like that answer. “Were you at any of the train stations?” 

“I was walking Dime.” 

“Yeah, but--” 

“Are you okay?” Ginoza interrupts. “They must have called you out. How are you? How is Akane?” The words come out in a rush, like he's just remembered everything he's been wanting to ask. 

“We're both fine,” Kougami tells him. “We were called out, and we went into the station to get the camera feeds. Kagari and I, not Akane. She stayed outside.” 

“You went into the station.” 

“It was fine. I mean, Kagari has to rest because he inhaled too much smoke--” 

“There were still fires?” 

Kougami realizes too late that he shouldn't have mentioned Kagari. “It was fine. We were fine. We kept away from the epicenter.” 

“I heard multiple explosions went off in each station,” Ginoza says. “Don't tell me you went in before it was cleared.” 

Kougami takes too long to answer. He doesn't want to lie. He finds it hard to lie to Ginoza. “Gino--” 

“Damn it, Kougami. Why would you do something so stupid?” 

“Ginoza,” Kougami says. “I'm fine.” 

“But what if you hadn't been?” Ginoza asks. “I wouldn't have even known. I would've been...home. What if you'd--” 

“You shouldn't think about that,” Kougami says. “Calm down.” 

“How can you expect me to be calm?” Ginoza snaps. 

“I shouldn't have told you,” Kougami mutters. 

“So you'd lie to me?” Ginoza's voice rises. “So that I won't know if you're risking your life or not? Because you don't want to be told when you're wrong?” 

“I wasn't wrong,” Kougami says, feeling his own anger rise. “I got the tapes. We can move the case forward. You don't solve cases by not taking risks.” 

“You should have waited until the building was cleared.” 

“I didn't. You have to deal with that.” The words come out harsher than necessary. He tries to backtrack. “What I mean is--” 

“I have to go,” Ginoza says, quiet. “I'll talk to you later, Kougami.” And then he hangs up. 

“Fuck.” Kougami wants to hit something. But he doesn't. He's stuck in traffic and he can't do a thing except wait for the car in front of him to move. “Fuck!” 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 15:52 8 November 2015 

passionplay: what is going on?   
theinformant: I have no idea, for once.   
Ghost: Chaos.   
gameboyk: cryptic.   
theinformant: No one's claimed responsibility, though you'd think for something that big, they would.   
gameboyk: Scary though. Three train stations. Commuting is gonna be a nightmare.   
passionplay: worse than train strikes.   
jellyfish: I wish someone would just claim responsibility.   
1984: That would be too easy, wouldn't it? 

Request for private chat from 1984 to jellyfish. 

1984: You have nothing in your investigation so far?   
jellyfish: we're combing through the tapes but it's going to take a while.   
1984: I can't imagine.   
jellyfish: You haven't heard anything?   
1984: No. I am just as frustrated as you are.   
jellyfish: Not even about the hacker.   
1984: I might know something about underground hacking communities in the city.   
1984: I can contact them and ask around, maybe put you in touch.   
1984: Are you convinced someone hacked into the camera systems for the stations?   
jellyfish: That's the only way I can see them getting away with the first attack.   
jellyfish: If they knew where the cameras would be looking, to avoid them.   
1984: Smart. I'll ask around. 

* 

It's times like these that Makishima misses Choe. He closes his computer, rests his elbows on the desk and stares straight ahead, not really seeing anything. Kamui is still out, likely putting other bits of his plan into motion. 

Makishima has had to do all the hacking for him. Choe taught him a few things. Enough to make sure that Kamui's plans can move forward. He's concerned that his work has been sloppy. He can't break into computer systems with the same elegance that Choe was able to. He doesn't understand them as intuitively as Choe. His expertise lies more with people and not machines. 

He takes a sip of his tea, the liquid already cold and starting to taste bitter. Choe went too far. Choe took foolish risks. He put himself in the path of the police and was gunned down. Makishima tells himself this so that he doesn't feel anything about Choe's death other than the acceptance that it was meant to happen. 

And, he tells himself that he can still use Choe. Traces of Choe's work linger, both throughout the city in jobs he's done before and in Makishima's own work. He's made an impression. 

It gives him an idea. He opens his computer. The chatroom log in pops up. Choe hadn't given him any details about his account, but Makishima thinks he's learned enough to be able get in. 

He's going to resurrect Choe Gu-Sung. 

* 

Ginoza sits in the kitchen with his new bottle of pills and Dime at his feet, a glass of water on the counter in front of him. He's shaking. He wants nothing more than to forget the argument he had with Kougami. He wants to be calm. 

He wants to sleep. He doesn't want to feel like he's dying even though he isn't. 

These pills are stronger. That's what scares him. That he needs something stronger. That someone else has talked to him and thought his mind a scary enough thing to need to be brought under control by these pills. He wonders if he imagined the look of concern the pharmacist gave him when handing them over. Likely, it was only in his head. 

He hates not trusting his reality, or his emotions. He hates that he can't trust the pills, either. He hates feeling desperate. He hates that he wants to resolve the argument he had with Kougami but at the same time still feels anger towards him. 

He fishes out one of the pills, small and round and white, and puts it in his mouth. He takes a deep gulp of water. Swallows. 

He feels nothing. He rests his head on the counter. Dime whines at his feet. He feels nothing. 

And then, slowly, a different kind of nothing. 

He raises his head. Feels like he's half-asleep and not in his own body. He stands up. Walks over to the couch in a daze, Dime following at his heels. He lowers himself onto the cushions. 

He doesn't feel angry anymore. He doesn't feel pathetic. He doesn't even hate himself. 

He's not sure what to do with this. So he just sits. 

He can't remember why he was angry in the first place. 

*

Tokyo Chatroom Log 17:25 5 November 2015 

Hacker: I go away for a few weeks and come back to this.   
gameboyk: you're back!! Where'd you go?   
Hacker: Conference in America.   
gameboyk: How cool!!!! What was it like?   
Hacker: Cool.   
1984: I need to ask you about something.   
Hacker: Yes?   
1984: Private chat.   
gameboyk: No fair I want to know. 

Private message from Hacker to jellyfish. 

Hacker: I've been away. 1984 tells me there's something you want to ask me?   
Hacker: I've been involved in Tokyo's underground computer and tech community until recently.   
Hacker: I can answer anything you need to know. 

* 

Akane decides, instead of going back to the precinct, to go see Ginoza. She calls him a few times and gets no answer, but a message from Kougami has her worried. Kougami said that they fought, that he might have screwed up. 

And they haven't even been on their first date, technically. 

It takes her forever to get there. The traffic thins out the further she gets from the train stations. Kougami had told her that it took him an ungodly amount of time to get back to the precinct after giving up on returning to the train station. Akane imagines him watching videos with Hinakawa and Kagari and trying not to be bored out of his mind. 

She has to knock on Ginoza's door a few times before he answers, and when he does, her mild concern turns to outright worry. His hair, normally tied up, is loose and messy. The area under his eyes is bruised far too dark, and his eyes seem glossed, like he has a fever. 

“Ginoza!” She practically launches herself through the door. Ginoza takes a step back, stunned. 

“Akane?” 

“Let me hug you.” 

“Okay?” 

Akane throws her arms around Ginoza, holding him tight. He feels too thin, too bony. It's been a long time since she's seen him looking this bad. And the previous times, they had been bad. The times where Ginoza had been consumed with depression and anxiety. She'd hoped nothing like that would happen again. 

But now, she knows she hasn't been paying enough attention. Ginoza wanted distance after the terrible events a month ago, but she thinks that she might have made a mistake in giving him so much. 

She pulls away, takes a step back. “Ginoza, what happened?” 

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?” 

“You look like...well, like you did the last time you really scared me.” 

“I do?” Ginoza raises a hand, grabs a piece of hair. “Sorry, it's been a rough day.” 

“It doesn't look like it's been just a rough day,” Akane points out. 

“That's really all it is,” Ginoza says. Something about his voice bothers her. There's not as much in it as there usually is, but she can't quite put her finger on what or why that is. 

“I heard you had a fight with Kougami.” 

Ginoza frowns. “Fight?” 

“He told me he called you and told you about going into the train station. And that you fought,” Akane says. 

“Oh.” Ginoza turns away. “I can make you tea, if you have time.” 

It takes Akane a moment to jump topics with him. “Ah—sure.” She follows him into the kitchen, where he starts boiling water in a kettle. His movements seem slow, not necessarily uncertain. Just muted. Akane sits at the counter and watches him. 

“I thought it was a bad idea,” Akane says. “I wanted him to wait until the station was cleared. But he was right in that it might have given someone else time to mess with the footage.” 

“Who was right?” Ginoza asks absently. 

“Kougami,” Akane says. “Ginoza, what's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Don't lie to me,” Akane says. “We both know how well that turned out last time.” 

Ginoza is silent for a moment, turned away from her, watching the kettle. He takes a deep breath. “Akane...I...something is wrong.” The kettle stops boiling. He pours out water into the tea cups, hands one to Akane, takes one for himself. 

“What is wrong?” Akane asks. 

“It's okay,” Ginoza tells her. “I'm getting help.” 

“What kind of help?” Akane presses. “Ginoza, please. I can tell something isn't right.” 

“I got a new psychiatrist,” Ginoza says, looking away. “I...I've been having trouble with...since that time. It's not, you don't have to worry about it. I don't want to bother you with--” 

“You're not bothering me.” Akane puts down her cup with a definitive thud. “Don't think that.” 

“It shouldn't be bothering me as much as it is,” Ginoza mumbles. 

“It was a horrible event,” Akane says. “Anyone would have trouble dealing with it. And you--” 

“Have problems?” Ginoza cut her off, surprisingly harsh. 

“You already had a lot to deal with,” Akane says. 

Ginoza looks away again, biting his lip. 

“What did the psychiatrist say?” Akane asks. “Did they give you any additional medication? Did they recommend counseling?” 

“Yeah,” Ginoza murmurs. “Just to help me sleep.” 

“But are you talking to anyone?” 

“I'm talking to him.” 

“Those appointments aren't usually about that kind of thing,” Akane says. “You told me that when you first started seeing a psychiatrist. That you still needed someone to talk to.” 

“The medicine is helping,” Ginoza says, but there's an edge to his voice. Something defensive. Akane recognizes it as the tone Ginoza takes when he doesn't want someone to pry. Because then they might break something apart in him. 

“Okay,” she says. “But I think it would be good to talk to someone. Like Kougami, or me.” 

“Kougami doesn't need to deal with this,” Ginoza says. 

“Or me.” 

“You don't need to deal with this.” 

“Actually, as your friend, I'm more than happy to,” Akane tells him. “I know you can't just stop thinking about it being an inconvenience, the way you feel. But it's not. We want to help you.” 

Ginoza sighs. “Kougami didn't sign up for this. I'll be fine. But he has enough to deal with. Especially with what's going on.” 

“You still haven't told me about your fight with him,” Akane points out. 

Ginoza blinks, like he's forgotten about it and has to drag it from his memory. “I didn't like what he was doing.” 

“His job,” Akane says. 

“You wouldn't have gone into the train station before it was cleared,” Ginoza points out. 

“No, I wouldn't have,” Akane agrees. “But maybe it's a good thing he did. We won't know until we have all the footage reviewed.” 

Ginoza picks up his tea cup with shaky hands. Nods. 

“I think you also need counseling,” Akane says. “And maybe you shouldn't be alone.” 

“I'm fine,” Ginoza says. But it sounds like an empty mantra that he's been repeating in a futile attempt to convince himself that it's fact. “I don't need you or Kougami or anyone else wasting time on me.” 

“You think it's a waste of time,” Akane says, “and that's part of the reason why you need other people around you. Because it's not.” 

Ginoza shakes his head. “People are alone. It happens. You can't stay with someone every minute of every day.” 

“No,” Akane says. “You can't. But you can give them as much company as possible.” 

Ginoza doesn't say anything. 

“Ginoza.” Akaen bites her lip. “Please be honest with me. Please let me help you. Or Kougami. Someone.” 

“The psychiatrist is helping me,” Ginoza says. “I'll get a therapist. It just takes time. The medicine takes time.” 

Akane isn't convinced, but she finishes her tea. Lets the subject go. Because they've done this before. Over and over again. And Ginoza has always come around. She has to remind herself to have a bit of faith in him. 

“Okay,” she says. “But if it isn't working, let me know. And on a different note, talk to Kougami.” 

Ginoza looks startled. “What?” 

“You two could have something,” Akane says. “Something that you both need. I think it's worth talking to him.” 

“I would have thought that someone like Kougami would be bad for me,” Ginoza says. “Someone who's rash. Who takes risks. Who reminds me of all the things I'm afraid of.” 

“Or he's what you need to work through those fears,” Akane says. “I don't know. Maybe you're right. But maybe I'm right. And the reason you're angry at Kougami is because you care about him. So he's not nothing to you.” 

Ginoza's eyes widen. 

And Akane's phone goes off. 

Akane glances at the messages. It's from the online chatroom. Hacker, answering one of her questions. She wonders if she can get Hinakawa to reveal his identity. She doesn't trust talking to a faceless name. 

“What's that?” Ginoza asks. 

“Information,” Akane says. She sends a message to Hacker, asking to meet in person. 

“The tapes?” 

“No, but I should check on those. The traffic is terrible, though. Getting anywhere around the city is difficult.” 

“And you came to see me,” Ginoza says, voice laced with guilt. 

But Akane only offers him a wide, genuine smile. “I did.”


End file.
